The day was sunny and cold, with a brutal wind. I tried waiting out of doors for my brother to arrive in his car, to pick me up, but the weather was wearing me a little too thin. I caught a bit of chill, and had to go back indoors to seek shelter. I had to go warm up before I got sick. I let the man come looking for me on foot. He really didn’t mind that, especially because I was right inside the foyer, waiting just inside the door. I was prepared to go. He might not have liked it if he’d had to come the whole way up to my room, in the back of the building, but I was right there, fishing for words with baited breath.

A benzodiazapine is a classification of a medication. It’s not a sleeping pill. It’s a minor tranquilizer. They are quite sedating, particularly in the way my personal body reacts to them. I take one at night, to help me go to sleep. It’s so effective on me at night, that a half an hour after I take my meds, I’m asleep, regardless of whether I’ve made any preparations for going to sleep or not. This medication is that powerful. It knocks me out whenever I take it.

I was taking some of the same stuff in the morning that was knocking me out at night, and didn’t know it. I’ve been sleeping almost around the clock ever since my latest doctor visit. Taking that medication that way was not what the doctor had ordered. The med tech needed to get the message from the horse’s mouth. I hooked the two people up on my own phone.

My brother, Richard, came to pick me up, to take the two of us out to celebrate his birthday at a restaurant. He’s getting to be an old man, like me. This time the meal was on me. He was the one to celebrate today. He was surprised to see me with my walker. He wanted to know what was up. I normally walk with a cane, but I’ve had to back-track to using the walker again, after a long time not having to use one. I’ve been excessively drowsy recently.

I’m drunk with the stuff.

It wasn’t that he was unsympathetic when I told him about my medication issue. It was just that he didn’t like being as far out of the loop about something as important as one of my medication issues, as he found himself to be at that moment. He wants to be one of the first people to know about such things. I’d left him out of the loop until the last minute, and he wants to know about such things sooner. I’m really very reassured that he wants to know such things right away.

The thing is that I was taking a benzodiazapine in the morning, and it’s got me all looped all day long, everyday. It relates to my balance and my state of consciousness. I’m a greater fall risk than normal, because I’m so sleepy all day long. Frankly, I’m likely to pass out and fall down, if I try to walk when I’m on that stuff.

I finally talked to the doctor’s office yesterday afternoon on the phone, when my med tech happened to be just outside my door in the hallway, so I connected the two people with my own phone, and got the whole mess straightened out pretty quick. I’m not supposed to be taking a benzodiazapine in the morning at all. The doctor had discontinued the morning dose the last time he wrote my orders.

The nurse in the Wellness Center entered the medication orders wrong in my chart. She made a little mistake that could have been a big one, but I finally got it all straightened out. In the interim, I’m using my walker, so I’ve got more help staying on my feet. Fortunately, it hasn’t caused me to fall. That conversation between the med tech and the doctor’s office was just yesterday afternoon. Today, I’ve done my meds correctly, without the morning benzodiazapine. It’s such a strong drug, it’s likely to take the remainder of the week for me to regain being fully awake in the daytime.

It’s like I’ve been drunk all the time, with an overdose of my benzodiazapine everyday. It’s just not fair. I’ve been cooperative and compliant with all my professionals. I avoid alcohol and drugs like they’re the plague. There was supposed to be a champagne tasting party today, and I stayed away. The Mouth of the South is always talking about his beer at the next table in the dining room, as if there’s nothing so wonderful in this world than his alcohol. He’s a drunk.

Then the nurse screws up the written orders for my medications for ten days running, after the doctor and I have talked the whole thing over, and I’ve been assuming they discontinued the daytime dose the way the doctor ordered it. I don’t know what else I’m supposed to do to cooperate with the professionals?

That’s not OK. I’ll take a lot of time to sit and rest for the next few days. I don’t want to fall again, if I can avoid it. I’ve got too much to lose any way you look at it. If I did fall, it could cost me another fracture in my leg or hip that could possibly be so debilitating that I might never walk again. I’m over sixty one years old right now, and the idea is that I’m walking on egg shells with a hip replacement.

It’s not really so far fetched as you might think, that I might never walk again if I ever fell on this replaced hip. I tried walking without my walker enough times in the rehab, that I remember my lessons quite clearly, on the strengths and frailties of my hip replacement.

According to my friend, who worked at the rehab where I learned how to walk again, after my hip was surgically replaced; my head could be ground zero for a nuclear blast, and the titanium alloy in my hip would remain unaltered after the blast. The titanium is that strong. It’s all the human stuff around it that could break that would be the problem, if I ever fell again.

One of the properties of titanium is that it knits with bone, the same as if it were bone itself. But that makes for bigger complications if there’s some sort of lateral impact against my hip, like you get if you fall down. A fall could cause a break that would not be operable, especially considering that I have osteoporosis at such an early age.

As it is, I’ve grounded myself to my couch for the evening, so if I do pass out, I just go to sleep with my laptop on my lap. But I’m paying the big bucks for a med tech to get my medications right, and the nurse dropped the ball anyway. They overdosed me for an entire ten days. That’s not supposed to happen, and Sharon wants to talk to the head nurse to bring this issue up some more. I’m living in Brighton Dam Apartments to avoid drug overdoses, not get them.


About geostan51

I'm a wordsmith and a craftsman. I've been known to hand crochet just about anything escept granny squares. I've got about twenty titles in my name on the Kindle Store at
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