Friday Blues

After today, I could use any one of these (or all of them).

After today, I could use any one of these (or all of them).

I don’t know what it is about Friday’s.  Not all Friday’s, mind you, just some of them.  Picture this.  It’s the end of a loooong week.  You come home from a long day of work (I’m a teacher so I don’t know much about that).  You’ve just sat in truly obnoxious, satanic traffic.  This is the kind of traffic for which there is no explanation.  No accident, no congestion, just stupid drivers.  You walk in the door and your babies run over to say hello.  But they’re tired too so it’s more of a “hi dad” and not the usual “DADDYDADDYDADDY!!!”.  You muster the energy to make it back out to 5:30 mass and come home once again.  You sit down on the couch and fall asleep.  When you wake up twenty minutes later, it’s pitch black outside for the sun has set, your wife and children are gone for they’ve gone out to get dinner, and you’re disoriented.

Don’t worry, the wife and kids came home quickly, with pizza no less.  But recovering from those twenty minutes asleep out of the blue…  That was tough.  Ever go through something like that?

The rest of the night went a bit better.

To hell with that, let me tell you what’s been going on.  The cross.  As a Christian it is all about the cross of Jesus Christ.  It has to be.  I’m watching an episode of the Golden Girls right now.  Don’t laugh.  It’s the one where Rose’s sister Lily shows up in town.  She’s gone blind and she’s acting like a little baby because, as she said “All my life I’ve done whatever I wanted and now I can’t and I hate it!”

Well, I’ve been given a life that I wouldn’t trade for anything.  Far too many blessings to count.  All of it culminating with the most incredible, most beautiful wife and two perfect children.  And what do I bitch about?  We can’t get pregnant.  I don’t like living in Texas.  Blah blah blah…  Really, Harvey?  Grow up.  But there are some things I should be working harder to accept, like my cross.  Every day I wake up and from the moment my feet hit the floor, the pain goes right down my spine and legs.  It’s bad.  It’s been bad for some time.  I try my best to hold off on taking a pill because I know I’ll be in the car soon and sitting usually does some good.  It’s my cross.  Accepting that I can’t do everything I used to do.  I make it through the school day.  I LOVE my students, every one of them.  They make me forget that I’m away from my own kids for 8 hours.  They’re fun.  They’re loving.  They give me hope.

Imagine then the shock when I called my doctor to get a refill on the painkillers I’m on.  Is there a person reading this who thinks I really want to be taking these things?  Don’t answer that.  The nurse came to the phone and explained that she had locked my prescription until the 25th.  First of all, she didn’t “write” my prescription, the doctor did.  Second, what on earth does “locked my prescription” mean?  She asked how many pills I usually take.  “2 every 4-6 hours,” I said.  “Well, see if you can get by with just the NSAID’s you’re taking until then,” she said.  Huh?!

I was so stunned.  I began to question whether I had been taking too many.  I actually called another teacher into my classroom to do the math for me.  No, turns out the nurse was just a bitch.  Because, and say it with me, 2 pills every six hours (as the dosage was written) amounts to 6 pills a day.  A bottle of 60 pills at that rate should last… 10 days!  And that’s why I was calling in the refill.

So, what to do…  I taught a few more classes, waited for the final bell, and then, well, skip back to the top to see what happened next.  Is it any wonder I came home a little depressed?  Now I get the fun of calling the doctor on Monday and explaining my math to him so he knows I’m not just seeking painkillers.  In the meantime I get to take yet another day off this week to have an epidural injection that won’t work so that we can prove to my insurance company that we tried everything before I had to be cut open.  Good Lord!  What does a guy have to do to get a disc pulled out of his back?!  It’s my cross.  In prayer I have to give this to Jesus.  Pray with me and for me, please.

Perhaps I can get them to suction some of my belly fat out at the same time.

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One response to “Friday Blues

  1. Boooo the nurse! But really — that cross sucks. I have a liiiittle bit of an understanding of it but obviously my back problems are/were slight compared to yours. Prayers!

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