Saturday, September 30, 2023

In which we lose a bet

 


Well that was stupid.

As I mentioned in the last post, I high-tailed it off to Houston for my high school reunion. I got there, checked into the most hilariously glamorous room I've ever seen in a hotel, and settled down to the very demanding task of visiting with my family.

I love them, I do, but they are very high maintenance.  This trait I have for long meandering stories apparently is genetic because all of my nieces and nephews have it too.  Plus they're much louder than me.  You get all of this around one table and it sounds like urban warfare. My niece Willow and her son came in from Phoenix and my other niece Amber came down from the far northern reaches of Texas. Plus I have yet another niece and a nephew living in Houston along with my older brother.  It was quite a gang.

Everything was going swimmingly.  Diane von Austinburg blew in and was an immensely welcomed respite from my lunatic blood relatives.  I've mentioned before I take pain medicine every day.  Instead of pills, it is a small piece of tape that I cut into eighths, tiny, tiny little bits. I take one of the little bits twice a day.  I had been taking them regularly and then Friday morning I opened up the medicine minder box I carry and discovered five of the pieces were gone.  I only had two doses in the box, enough for Friday and that was it.

I have no idea what happened to those goddamn itsy bitsy pieces of tape which are all that keeps me from being crippled.  I flailed around all day Friday trying to replace them.  My pain doctor turns out to not be able to prescribe controlled substances outside of California.  Great. My regular doctor was out of the office for the weekend.  Great.  I went to the very nice emergency room a couple of blocks from the hotel and discovered ERs cannot prescribed opiates either.  Again, great. I appreciate how all the pharmacies and doctors and nurses I spoke to never took the position that maybe I was a junkie trying to just cage extra meds off of them.  

And so yesterday afternoon I just surrendered and decided to come home early, this morning in fact.  Perhaps you remember in the earlier post how I sniffed at Diane's joke that she was taking bets that I wouldn't make the reunion.  How very galling to now have to admit that I lost that fucking bet.

On the other hand the flight back this morning had those seats that recline fully into beds and so I was able to sleep most of the way here.  It is the only way to fly.

Naked men welcome me home:

I'm too tired from traveling to make up snappy lines about these guys; you get the idea.

































So glad to be home.

14 comments:

  1. The Lard works in mysterious ways. Maybe you weren’t suppose to go. Perhaps there will be a mass shooting at the reunion.

    At least you got to see your crazy family and your duty to see them is satisfied for a year or more.

    At least there were naked men when you got back.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yes to all of that, especially the "when you got back" part.

      Delete
  2. I have never taken opiates (as I do not want another addiction to add to booze, fags and coffee), but I imagine that if I were stupid enough to go to a school reunion, I'd need them!

    Jx

    PS I've got the St Louis Blues (pic #6)...

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. The St. Louis boy looks like such a sweet youth and then that ludicrously over-photoshopped whacker.

      Delete
  3. Speaking of that bet, just what did I win, aside from being able to being snooty about being right? (I still think you may have lost the drugs just so you wouldn’t have to go to the reunion.)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I think you have won the right to recount this story at various lunches and then my funeral.

      Delete
  4. Aren't you glad you forgot the pain meds? You got to skip the reunion and were welcomed home by nekked menz with pneumatic asses. Even though you lost the bet with Diane, you still won!
    Anonymous, too

    ReplyDelete
  5. Being old is such a fucking pain in the ass.

    In order to lead a somewhat spontaneous life, I have to load myself up with way too much, recheck, double check, check again and spend the rest of my time nervous that I screwed up.

    Much easier to lie in bed & look at your photos.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Amen sister. ONE of the most annoying parts of the entire fiasco was that I planned to bring an extra strip of pain meds, but I forgot.

      Delete
  6. I'm sort of disappointed that you didn't make it to the reunion as I was imagining an extremely lively post all about it! Ah well, maybe next year?!!
    Sx

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I had thought the same thing and had already roughed out some snappy intro lines. Oh well. And next year? I swear by whatever gods there may be, I will NEVER leave San Francisco again.

      Delete
  7. Hope that your strip wasn't purloined. My mind went instantly to a 'Clue' scenario where you confronted all of your relatives in the library, with a candlestick. *ahem*

    ReplyDelete
  8. One of the best things about the suite I had was that it came with TWO bathrooms and I restricted my no account family to the one by the front and not the one with my meds in it. But if you come up with any Inspector Clousseau insights, please let me know.

    ReplyDelete

In Which Credit Is Taken

Financial advice from mrpeene e So every year or two, some evil little troll manages to get their grubby paws on my credit card number.  The...