as Jack and i hit the highway and punched the gas the car was still silent. both of us in shock i think. after the silence had gone on long enough in my opinion, i turned and asked him “what the fuck was all that about? couldn’t just let it be could you?” but Jack had nothing to say now. he jumped into the back seat and curled up for some rest. i would too if i could. that whole ordeal was exhausting. i could feel my heart slowing back down to a normal pace which is good when your driving and need calmness.
perhaps a little music will help change the mood. i slid the cage the elephant disc in that less than stellar AC Delco contraption and turned it up loud. fuck Jack and his sleeping i thought. it wasn’t a trip ending kinda fiasco, but i’d need to keep the leash a little tighter in the future. man i like this disc. i don’t listen to a whole fuck of a lot the new rock these days. can’t stomach most of it. seem to be going through another one of those 80’s kinda bloated things. which really sucks when you haven’t been in touch with any kinda scene in years, cause all you get then is what the radio stations give you. oh sure there’s that nickelback band. and they got that one great song they keep playing over and over and over. just changing the words i think. speaking of those dipshits, is it just me or does that lead singer look like a Frankenstein in drag?
oh fuck my hand started to cramp on the wheel and before i could do anything about it, my whole arm was seizing. it was all i could manage, but i got it off the wheel and managed to shake it loose before it was able to drag me into the ditch. never used to have this problem until a short time ago. it started from lifting at work as best i can tell. shitty job i won’t go into now, but it involved lots and lots of repetitive heavy work. the kind that you can feel all the way up and down your arms, into your shoulders, back and sometimes legs. anyhow one monday it just got different. so i went to the clinic. they weren’t much help. told me to take some muscle relaxer. that did fuck all. regardless by the end of the week i had been in and out of the ER in terrible pain. they just kept upping the doses until Friday night when i couldn’t take it anymore. i was close to tears at this point. the doctor that night seemed to be the first to recognize that this just may be a pinched nerve, and they needed to break the pain cycle.
well this doctor sent in an angel, i think he called her nurse. she was the sweetest thing to ever grace that cold sterile souless building. even wielding that harpoon she called a syringe. it was morphine! anyhow she gave me one shot and they waited for a while but nothing. so they gave me one more, i don’t recall the dose but i was told this was an awful lot to give a man. finally relief. then before they released me, he gave me a Rx for Oxy.
now it was never my intention to keep using the Oxy for long, but after the Workers Compensation Board informed me that there is no way this is related to work, so they wouldn’t be helping. and my family doctor who is an excellent business man, could only suggest waiting 6 months for an MRI. well yeah now i love the Oxy. this is one habit that is not my fault. this one lies squarely on the WCB and the great canadian healthcare system.
but like i was about to mention earlier, it was this hand cramp and the thought of those Oxy pills safely tucked away in my pocket that reminded me it was time to take my other meds. i’ve long since given up on trying to remember what they are called. all i need to know is that it’s on file at the pharmacy. had i already taken them today? did i take them yesterday? hard to say i don’t wear a watch and never carry a calendar. hell i can’t even remember what i take them for anymore. what was it…..mood disorder? personality disorder? general lunacy, too happy, suicidal, narcissistic, delusional, OCD,……oh fuck i just don’t remember what diagnosis that quack of mine made. must be working then.
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