A few years ago I had some surgery, and surgery, while it buys you pain, also buys you pain meds. There are probably some noble souls* among us who don’t exult when they find themselves in position to take heavy narcotics, but I’m not one of them. A nice little prescription for some Percocet or Vicodin is the dangling carrot on the other side of whatever crappy something-or-other I’m going to have to go through to get it.
*or chronic pain sufferers—a tip of the hat and an apology for the above bit to you guys, all of whom I’m sure would love nothing better than to be able to get off the pain meds. I see you, I note you, and I’m wishing you freedom.
• feeling of warmth
• feeling sad or empty
• feeling unusually cold
• trouble concentrating
• unusual feeling of excitement
• cold and flu-like symptoms
• difficulty moving
• disturbance in attention
• false or unusual sense of well-being
• feeling hot
• feeling jittery
• flushing or redness of the skin
• headache, severe and throbbing
• hot flashes
• loss of voice
• muscle aching or cramping
• night sweats
• tightness of the chest
• trouble sleeping
• trouble breathing
And then there are all the side effects that you have to call your doctor/head to the emergency room about immediately, but this isn’t a PSA and this post isn’t about prescription drugs even if it really seems like it is right now, so I’m not going to list them.
THE ABSOLUTE CERTAINTY THAT YOU ARE GOING TO DIE
CONCENTRATE WITH ALL YOUR MIGHT AND GRAB ON TO LIFE WITH TWO HANDS OR ELSE YOU WILL EXPIRE IMMEDIATELY
IMMINENT TOTAL DOOM
which I guess all fall under the “agitation” heading. I was sweating, freezing, nauseated, metallic-feeling and dead panicked, and I spent the whole night until the sun came up googling Tramadol horror stories (oh, you can find ‘em), pacing back and forth between the bathroom and the bed, and praying my fucking head off.
Nurse! (Web surf.)
We just keep blocking most of it out.