Twelve blessed hours of it.
I am never taking another Vicodin as long as I live. All they do is make me go into that quasi-sleep that isn't really sleep, that pain relief that doesn't really take away the pain, but makes you not care that it's there.
It is evil incarnate.
And because I took the Vicodin I was afraid to take the Ambien I usually take at bedtime along with it. Much better to chug sangria in desperation, don't you think?
So here I am, refreshed. I have accomplished more today than I have all week. No, the Christmas shopping isn't done. But hey, I still have a week. Gimme a break!
In other news, I have now made appointments with three different orthopedic doctors. The first didn't go to a hospital covered by my insurance. The second was listed by my insurance, as was his hospital, but it turns out both the hospital and he dropped my insurance.
The third seems to be neither too hot, too cold, too hard, too soft, but juuuuuusssssssst right. He both takes my insurance and goes to the hospital my insurance covers. My knee and I will meet him on 16 January.
Until then, I need to find a soul food caterer who will feed 90 people lunch for $425. Any ideas?