059. Diagnosis

[vicodincrutch]

[cranky voice;]

I don't even get the chance to stretch and say "ah, all better." Three days stuck solid that means that for seventy two hours I was stuck in one single position without any vicodin. Standing.

[called out over his shoulder]

Eden, why didn't you try and lay me down?

[grumble sigh]

This is not a small violin solo. This is a professional opinion.

I need my vicodin. This isn't a joke. I'm in pain. Do you even know what that is? Not a stubbed toe. Not a migraine, unless you think that a migraine persists after sleeping or medication. The vicodin doesn't even make it better. It makes it bearable. Advil won't help. And I've taken an entire days needed dosage. I'll settle for liquid even though I could end up in a coma at this point. I don't care. It wasn't with me unless people are capable of stealing from statues. I don't care if you're a druggie and you sell yourself for the next happy trip. You took it and its mine.

Comments

[vicodincrutch.livejournal.com]

I want a refund. That was a lousy ride. A forced coma was better.

[orderonto]

I hope they find whoever has been doing it. The very idea of turning people to what must be stone is ludicrous and disturbing.

You should invest in a whirlpool bath, I've heard they make a difference. Joint disease?

[vicodincrutch.livejournal.com]

Find out? Not that hard. I'm a witness. When I feel more social I'll give a testimony and everything.

You're joking right? Don't quit your day job. Who gives vicodin only to a joint disease patient. It's one joint area. I never complain about my feet or wrists or anything else with frequent use. It's the leg. I had an quadriceps infarction that turned uglier.

[orderonto]

I'm a geneticist, House, I've never claimed to be a doctor. I've been judiciously informed by a clever nine year old that I can't even give a shot right.

I'm sorry for your pain.