So I am off work for at least two weeks, and possibly up to 4, after some minor surgery -- by which I mean surgery at 11 a.m., back home by about 4:30 p.m., and rabidly stuffing myself with ordered-in Chinese food by 6 p.m. (you know those cartoons you see where the person appears to be eating with six hands? That was me.)
And of course when they send you home, they send you home with prescriptions for painkillers. As they did me.
Ibuprofen. Okay, that's understandable.
And ... morphine?
MORPHINE?? Are you fucking KIDDING me?!?
I could probably finance four months off work if I filled both those and tried selling the stuff on the street.
For the record, I didn't bother getting the morphine 'scrip filled; I just told the pharmacy to hold it and if I needed it, I would fill it. Which I won't. My surgery was Wednesday (July 26) and I haven't even broken into the ibuprofen yet, and likely won't. (And no, I'm not a masochist who's sitting here gritting my teeth and "powering through the pain." The "pain" is about equal to a moderate bruise.)
On the other hand ... now I get to dive into all those Star Trek books I bought.
And of course when they send you home, they send you home with prescriptions for painkillers. As they did me.
Ibuprofen. Okay, that's understandable.
And ... morphine?
MORPHINE?? Are you fucking KIDDING me?!?

I could probably finance four months off work if I filled both those and tried selling the stuff on the street.
For the record, I didn't bother getting the morphine 'scrip filled; I just told the pharmacy to hold it and if I needed it, I would fill it. Which I won't. My surgery was Wednesday (July 26) and I haven't even broken into the ibuprofen yet, and likely won't. (And no, I'm not a masochist who's sitting here gritting my teeth and "powering through the pain." The "pain" is about equal to a moderate bruise.)
On the other hand ... now I get to dive into all those Star Trek books I bought.

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