Feb 7, 2017, 7:35 AM

@GangOfDolls Yeah, sometimes I have to say I'm grateful for the side effects of certain things on me that are addiction risks; not gonna lie, it helps avoid that worry.

While ZOMG ill, I took dilaudid for a couple of days and... no, just no, all the NOPE, NO NAY NEVER NO MORE. After the second surgery, I told them I did not give a damn what they gave me, but it could not be that no matter how much that was 'the most highly recommended painkiller post-surgery', and I would rather take absolutely nothing than ever have that medication in my body again.

Not only is it insanely addictive -- it's synthetic morphine that's apparently some absurd amount of times more potent -- I could feel my intelligence dropping by the moment from a half hour after I took one onward. My critical thinking skills I could track as they dropped in the amount of time it would take me to respond to anything verbally; by an hour after taking a pill that had increased to two minutes of having to process anything I'd been asked (and I mean things as simple as my husband asking 'do you want me to get you anything from the kitchen?'), I had a horrible headache, and felt like I was in a fog. Balance was gone, completely. All I wanted to do was sleep and yell at people (five minutes after they did absolutely nothing wrong) for absolutely no damned reason.

I needed it when I needed it, and it saved me a lot of physical pain and improved a problem that was complicating all the things, but 1-2 every 4 hours? Yeah, that lasted a day before it was 'I'm farming these fuckers out for as long as I can take it and still breathe without tears rolling down my face', because that was preferable to feeling like the above, seriously.

To be fair, it did mean I got to yell really a lot at my father for being a gigantic asshat about 'you might get addicted! That is so much more horrible than not being able to actually breathe! OH GOD SOUND THE ALARM!' after I took a single pill with less restraint than I might usually have employed, but in hindsight, damn, he did kinda earn that one. (Granted, for all I clearly recall of it, I may have called him a giant purple pollution-farting unicorn, but with whatever limited faculties I had at the time, I recall that it was probably mean. It may not have been remotely lucid, but it was probably mean.)