Tuesday, November 4, 2008


"Now the drugs don't work/They just make you worse/But I know I'll see your face again."
--The Verve, "The Drugs Don't Work

I'm about to say something potentially controversial and definitely un-PC, so turn your head if you're not up for it.

I can kind of see why people get hooked on pain pills.

And what brought about this deeper understanding of the affliction of addiction? It started about a week and a half ago when I was at the gym. One minute I was happily pumping iron, the next I was practically keeling over in shoulder pain. I proceeded with my workout anyway, which probably wasn't the best idea, and for one week, I tried to ignore the pain along with the fact that I couldn't extend my left arm forward and up more than 45 degrees without scrunching up my face in agony. Then last Thursday, I finally gave in and went to the doctor. After ordering X-rays of my left shoulder (doctors here think X-rays are the answer to everything; they'd use them to rule out internal damage from a splinter), he determined that nothing was broken, fractured or dislocated. I had a simple case of tendonitis. He wrote me a prescription and advised me against working out my arms or shoulders for at least a week.

When I got home, I took the first one of the pills that the doctor had prescribed and almost immediately, I felt better. That night I went to my friend Hollie's apartment and told everyone about my trip to the doctor and his miracle cure. When the pain returned (with considerably less intensity) shortly before my scheduled second dose, I felt a tad silly for having made my earlier pronouncement. But after I popped pill No. 2, ZAP! The pain once again bolted.

By Saturday night, I began to notice that not only was my shoulder medication making me uncharacteristically cool, calm, collected, slightly ditsy and dead ass tired, but I couldn't feel a thing. Gone was the slight aching in my feet that I always get when I jog too far and too long. Also not-so-dearly departed were those tension headaches that recently had been creeping up around sunset. I felt better than I could remember having felt in ages, and I owed it all to Blokium 75, which is technically a muscle relaxant but was having an undeniable painkiller effect on me.

Thank God, I don't have an addictive personality because if I did, I'd be toast. Although I find myself looking forward to my twice-a-day Blokium fixes, I know that seven pills from now, it will all be over, and I'll never look back. Hopefully, by then the pain will be history, too, and I can resume my regular workout regimen and go back to heckling those over-pampered Hollywood stars who end up in the ER--or worse--because of exhaustion, dehydration and popping prescription drugs like they're Tic Tacs.

That reminds me, time for a pink pill.
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