Each time I go to the hospital for the overnight new-baby weight loss plan (lose at least 8 pounds in 10 minutes!), the doctor sends me home with a prescription for pain medicine.  I think they feel sorry for me when they hear I also have several toddlers at home, or maybe that’s just standard procedure.

I usually don’t even bother to fill it, even though Percocet and Vicodin are, I’m told, in high demand.  Frankly, they don’t do all that much for me.

However, in the interest of preparedness (should the Apocalypse draw nigh, I could trade the pills for ammo.  See?  I’m preparing for every contingency), I decided it was better to have the meds than do without.  Plus, Vicodin is ridiculously cheap and cost less than a bottle of Advil.

And oh, I’m glad I did!

We have a cold.  I’m not using the royal “we”, but am including the small girl who has permanently bonded with my chest.  This, combined with the standard sleep deprivation, has made life just a wee bit difficult.  It’s hard to function on 3 hours of sleep when you have a bowling ball in your sinus cavity.  Or at least the feeling that one might be lurking in there, somewhere.

The situation is not helped along by the over-the-counter medicine providers.  They package each little bit of sinus relief in a plastic blister pack.  I can imagine them laughing at suffering, snotting adults desperately trying to peel the tiny bits of impenetrable cellophane off the foil before they can push the blessed little nugget of decongestion out of it’s plastic bubble.  Sadists.

In my case, I managed to pop the Sudafed out, only to groggily watch it launch through the air and over my shoulder.  And I did not hear it land.  How could this be?  I was surrounded by bathroom linoleum.  Surely I should have heard it hit.

A brief glance revealed a pile of laundry in the corner.  The pill must have come down over there.  Now, I have small children around and if I drop medicine, it’s imperative to find it right away.  It really cuts down on trips to the ER if I keep dangerous substances that look strangely like candy out of the kid’s reach.

And so, I dragged myself over to the pile and poked it with a toe.  Toes aren’t really the best search tool, but they were the most convenient at the time.  This is how I discovered that not only were the clothes dirty, they were wet.  And it had been two days since the boys went swimming, which meant they were wet and mildewed.  The mildew wasn’t a big problem, though, as the aforementioned bowling ball kept the stench from making me dizzy.

Unfortunately, the medication wasn’t fit for consumption so I had to start all over again with another blister pack.  This time I did not position myself carefully.  Upon flinging out my elbows in an attempt to shove my little caplet of relief through it’s protective wrapper, I whacked the dresser.  And dropped the medicine.  And hit my head on the doorknob after picking it up off the floor.

Thank goodness for pain meds.  Who knows what kind of trouble I’d get myself into if I had a headache on top of everything else?

Tagged as: cold and flu, decongestant, humor, new baby, pain medication, postpartum