Sunday, January 24, 2010

What a pain

I was talking with a friend the other day and we were discussing the rise in presciption drug abuse. Neither one of us were very fond of the effects that pain medication have on our behavior. Typically "hitter pain" medications like hydracodone, even T3s make me turn obnoxious. Now I know that there are those of you out there who feel I do not need medication to assist with being obnoxious. According to my wife I go from being an extremely charming, quite, repectful and laid back individual to a very roudy, loud jerk once the medication takes effect.

I was reminded recently of an incident that should have been embarrassing for me except I was under the influence of an opiate based pain medication following a surgery at the time. The events as I remember them are as follows. The only witness to the event is a former Relief Society President. I was to be left on my own for the fitst time following a back surgey, my wife and children went to a program at the local high school. I was at the point that with enough pain medication, I was able to get up by myself as needed. I was dressed in my "angel chaps" and a bathrobe. I was watching a John Wayne movie (I can only watch them when my wife is out, I think it is beacuse in about every movie he is in with Mareen O'Hara he ends up spanking her, of course she always deserves it. Did I mention that my wife reminds me a little of Mareen when she is behaving badly?), there was a knock at the front door. Having downed a pain pill 30 minutes earlier I felt no hesitation on getting out of bed, slidding my feet into some house slippers and waddling down the hall to the top of the stair to see who was rapping at my door. As I stood swaying at the top of the stairs I could see trough the side light window that the visitor was our Relief Society President, Sister Gilbert. Without bothering to close my bathrobe, I worked my way down the stairs to the door. I opened the door to find a suprised, embarassed Sister Gilbert. Politely averting her eyes she said "Bishop, I didn't mean to get you out of bed, I thought they weren't leaving you home alone yet" and she handed me a cassarole dish of food. I assured her that I was now old enough to be left alone for short periods of time. She again appologized for making me get out of my sick bed to answer the door. I assured her I was alright. As I made my way back up the stair and set the cassarole on the kitchen counter. I realized that I looked like "cousin Eddie" from National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, you know the scene where Eddie is standing outside in his bathrobe emptying his motor home septic into the storm drain. Well that was me minus the hat. I remember thinking "I should be embarassed but this is just too darn funny!" Poor Sister Gilbert always the prim, proper polite one. You know she has never said a word to me about that night, didn't even mention it to my wife. Maybe someday I'll get the guts to ask her if she remebers seeing the Bsihop in his underwear.

Once I got to bed the humor of the situation hit me with full force and I laughed even though it hurt. My sister-in-law Ronalee called and I accounted the details to her. She later remarked to my wife that I was funny and quit a bit more talkative than usual.

I think I'll stick with Advil or something similar.


2 comments:

The thing is said...

Is that or a good or bad thing to remind you of Maureen O'Hara? Maybe I should behave badly more often. I can do it without the benefit of pain meds too.

Wish You Were Here said...

Most of the time a good thing.