The Cyborg Junkie and the Greatest Husband Excuse Ever
More adventures in medical land this week. First up was a visit to a cardiologist, after the Emergency Room doc thought there might be some evidence of hardening of the arteries. All of the initial tests the cardio doc did looked good, so just for fun I was given a tracker device that is glued to the chest. You leave it on for a week, taking care to not get it too wet, and then seal it into a box and return it. A week or two later they get some results. It reminds me of “Robo Cop” or other cyborg movies, although in a pretty minor way. It does not make any noise, but I am supposed to press down on the button in the middle if something happens.
Then off to see Dr. Marinkovich to check in and get my Oxycotone prescription renewed. He wanted to have a 2nd MRI done on my lower back, and the spine specialist we are seeing tomorrow would want one too. I was very lucky to get in for one 24 hours later, at 6pm this evening.
I HATE having an MRI done! OK, that is too strong, but if you are even mildly claustrophobic it is not a fun experience. Fortunately, I was able to have it with a “semi open” machine, so you are not totally encased in the tube. However, the roof is about an inch from your nose, so you close your eyes and think about other things.
Any other things.
They offer you a choice of music to listen to, which is pretty silly. The machine makes so much noise you can’t hear the music. Every few minutes it stops for 30 seconds and you can hear a song, but the interludes are spaced out far enough that it is a different song each time.
For the MRI I needed to remove the Cyborg device from my chest, and then replace it later. Hope the glue holds. I may have screwed up this test, but the MRI had far higher priority.
Also at the Doc’s office he advised an “ANSAR” test, which I had never heard of. You get wired up with various electrodes and then sit for ten minutes and stand for a final five. This test has three parts. The first thing is does is measure how hard your heart has to work at a minimum. How much energy does it take just to pump the blood if you are sitting still? In my case, very little, which is very good. The second test is when you stand up. How quickly does the heart respond to a demand for more service? In my case, very quickly, which is also very good. The final test is to see how the heart reacts and gets back to normal, and I aced that as well. It’s a small test, but any good news is very welcome.
I had a question. I know that Oxycotone is an addictive opiate. The explanation for its use is that first we will find what is causing the back pain, and fix it, and then later I will go through detox from the Oxycotone.
Thus my question. The Oxcy causes no discernible reaction in me that I can tell. The pain is reduced to a mild ache, but there is no euphoria or giddiness or supreme confidence or anything else that would be “fun.” I have never smoked marijuana (which my students would never believe back in the day), so I have no “getting high” experiences to relate to, but I have experienced drunkenness to various degrees. Oxycotone to me is nothing like even two glasses of Scotch, which would put me on the floor. It is – nothing.
In addition, I have no cravings for it. Only a close watch on the clock to make sure I take it every 6 hours keeps me on schedule. I am tempted to skip one here or there, but I have been given expert advice that you want to stay on top of the pain by staying ahead of it, so there you have it. Experimenting is certainly not worth the risk of the pain I experienced last week!
Worst of all, you are not to drive while taking it, which means Susan is getting a lot of experience driving our new VW Tiguan, and I am getting more and more impatient with not driving, not to mention motorcycle riding. Plus being the most significant time suck in Susan’s life. Where do we need to go now? She does not complain about this, but I complain about being the cause.
So I asked. Why can’t I drive? Answer – it slows down your reaction time and mental capacity. In fact, if you get in an accident and have Oxy in your blood stream, you are considered to be at fault. Period.
I replied that I had not noticed any diminution in reflexes or mental acuity, and Susan piped up to say she had. She felt I was not as mentally sharp while on the Oxy.
So as we prepare for an 8am visit to the spine specialist, I have the best husband excuse ever. When I forget to do something or say something irrevocably stupid, I can say “I’m on Oxy. Give me a break.”
How long after I’m weaned from it can I continue to use this wonderful excuse? We’ll see.
Copyright 2017 David Preston