"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.
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.