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Updatynessedness
Jul. 12th, 2010 10:39 pmI am So. Farking. Tired.
Today was an emergency appointment with the pain management doc. So, I'm back on hydrocodone again, since the methodone so seriously didn't work for me. I asked about Nabilone, a synthetic cannabinoid known to work well with neuropathic pain. The pain doc dismissed it out of hand. I wonder if he thought I was trying to get high? I also asked about how I'm supposed to dispose of all this methadone I have laying around now. No, I will not take volunteers. But I'm worried about having this stuff in the household when every kid in the neighborhood wanders through at some time or another. I'm still feeling the methadone effects, too - ever meal I've eaten has reappeared on me. I'm fine with light grazing, but my tummy is not happy with meal amounts of food right now.
Did a little shopping on the way home. We are finally finishing the paint job in the dining room! YAY! But the combination of hitting Lowe's (hardware) and Lowe's (groceries) added up to one tired and hurting Marna. I planned ahead enough to have my TENS unit with me for the ride home, so that helped.
Then we got home, and walked into DRAHMAH. Or rather DRAMAH ambushed us in the street before we even reached the house. Rowan and her two visiting friends were having an argument, in the middle of the street, with the two guests mounted on Andrew's and Kyle's bikes. At no point were we asked if it was ok for the girls to use the bikes - we'd probably have ok'd it, but they should have asked instead of just assuming. One girl wanted to go home. To Virginia. Tonight. And Rowan had not bothered to do the dishes, after promising us it would be done before the adults got up this morning. Oh, and Kyle had left base with a friend's family, without notifying us.
Yeah. Rough evening. Much punishment was handed out, and Rowan and Kyle both had "come to Jesus" talks. It's good parenting if you make your kids break down crying over their misdeeds, right?
I also made the difficult decision that Guinness really isn't going to cut it as my service dog. He is a wonderful dog, don't get me wrong, but I don't have the energy or the physical or emotional strength to finish out his training. Since I can't drive, I can't get him out to places to work on public training (Andrew consistently refuses to take Guinness out in public because he doesn't trust the dog's behavior) and without that training, this is a lost cause. So I'm applying for a mobility service dog from a Wilmington group. Their average wait is 2-4 years, and I'll keep using Guinness to the best of his ability until I get a replacement. Ironically enough, the local group gets their dogs trained by the inmates at the Camp Lejeune brig. I firmly intend to keep Guinness afterward, too. All I can do is hope the new dog gets along with him. Guinness is going to be a much-loved family pet, and I think he'll be much happier with that. He's going to miss our rolls around the neighborhood, though. I'll have to find a way to keep those up.
Today was an emergency appointment with the pain management doc. So, I'm back on hydrocodone again, since the methodone so seriously didn't work for me. I asked about Nabilone, a synthetic cannabinoid known to work well with neuropathic pain. The pain doc dismissed it out of hand. I wonder if he thought I was trying to get high? I also asked about how I'm supposed to dispose of all this methadone I have laying around now. No, I will not take volunteers. But I'm worried about having this stuff in the household when every kid in the neighborhood wanders through at some time or another. I'm still feeling the methadone effects, too - ever meal I've eaten has reappeared on me. I'm fine with light grazing, but my tummy is not happy with meal amounts of food right now.
Did a little shopping on the way home. We are finally finishing the paint job in the dining room! YAY! But the combination of hitting Lowe's (hardware) and Lowe's (groceries) added up to one tired and hurting Marna. I planned ahead enough to have my TENS unit with me for the ride home, so that helped.
Then we got home, and walked into DRAHMAH. Or rather DRAMAH ambushed us in the street before we even reached the house. Rowan and her two visiting friends were having an argument, in the middle of the street, with the two guests mounted on Andrew's and Kyle's bikes. At no point were we asked if it was ok for the girls to use the bikes - we'd probably have ok'd it, but they should have asked instead of just assuming. One girl wanted to go home. To Virginia. Tonight. And Rowan had not bothered to do the dishes, after promising us it would be done before the adults got up this morning. Oh, and Kyle had left base with a friend's family, without notifying us.
Yeah. Rough evening. Much punishment was handed out, and Rowan and Kyle both had "come to Jesus" talks. It's good parenting if you make your kids break down crying over their misdeeds, right?
I also made the difficult decision that Guinness really isn't going to cut it as my service dog. He is a wonderful dog, don't get me wrong, but I don't have the energy or the physical or emotional strength to finish out his training. Since I can't drive, I can't get him out to places to work on public training (Andrew consistently refuses to take Guinness out in public because he doesn't trust the dog's behavior) and without that training, this is a lost cause. So I'm applying for a mobility service dog from a Wilmington group. Their average wait is 2-4 years, and I'll keep using Guinness to the best of his ability until I get a replacement. Ironically enough, the local group gets their dogs trained by the inmates at the Camp Lejeune brig. I firmly intend to keep Guinness afterward, too. All I can do is hope the new dog gets along with him. Guinness is going to be a much-loved family pet, and I think he'll be much happier with that. He's going to miss our rolls around the neighborhood, though. I'll have to find a way to keep those up.
