So yesterday I decided I was fed up with stupid Lyrica because I am still in pain, I think its making me fat(ter), its hard on my stomach, and I don't like it and I called my doctor's office and left a message to that effect. They were supposed to call back with a prescription for a new miracle drug or move up my appointment (a month away - which isn't that far in doctor appointment land) or something like that. No, they called back and said 'the doctor said to double your dose, we have called in a new prescription for the increased dosage but in the meantime just double up your pills'. WTF? This is not what they were supposed to say. Big (fat) sigh.
Being a positive person, I pouted and whined to my co-worker (got the message at work) and to my husband when I got home, and did some research. Evidently the dose I was at was the lowest recommended dose and now I am at a moderate level - but if you take too much Lyrica, call the poison control center. Let me just whine for a moment (for a change) about my health and how I am sick and tired of being sick and tired. Okay, whine over.
One point that I do feel proud of myself for is actually checking my other prescriptions last night and calling in a refill so I can pick up two prescriptions at once instead of making my usual two separate trips (and its only been four days since I last picked up a prescription). I think Walgreen's pharmacy should give frequent shopping discounts for people who pick up prescriptions often.
Today is a big day. Well, not that exciting but just lots going on. First, we are getting new living room furniture so we are donating our old sofa to a place that helps homeless people get off the streets. So Walter moved the old one out to the curb (and I watched) on this little dolly that I bought at the hardware store. I can't lift anything so we were concerned on how well this would work. My back hurts from just watching him. (In the couch I found a lime green crayon and underneath was a dime and a cat toy and lots of dust bunnies - vacuuming will occur later). I just need to put a note on the sofa for the people coming to pick it up.
The next event today is the cat gets to go for a car ride to the vet. He will hate me briefly until he gets home and then I will feed him and life will be good. But he really hates the car. He hides from the carrier. So last night Walter put the carrier in the car. Today I will carry the cat out to the car. He will be so excited to be outside that I can stuff him in the carrier before he realizes he is going in the car. When I get to the vet, they will go and get him out of the car for me so he doesn't make my back hurt (more).
Then I am off to a full day - therapist at 9, work from 1015-245, physical therapist 330-415, pick up the cat between 5 & 530. I hope to fit in a tiny walk between PT and retrieving the cat as it was too yucky to walk yesterday. So when I go out the door today, I need the cat, his blanket and a can of food (God forbid he misses a meal); my lunch and an apple for a snack, bottle of water, cup of coffee; sneakers for my walk; and list of meds (which has changed since yesterday when I printed it out), calendar and list of PT appointments, and medical history (to put the new guy in to shock). Then perhaps I will vacuum up dust bunnies on my return home.
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