I have never been a cigarette smoker. I’ve never done hard drugs. I get drunk only occasionally. I don’t routinely have a cup of coffee every morning upon rising. The reason why? (health and moral values not topping the list,) I know what an addictive personality I have. One cigarette would quickly turn into a pack or two a day. A glass of wine would turn into several each evening and my once in a while cappuccino is costly enough without making it a daily necessity.
It appears my three year old has that addictive personality too. In fact, we are currently battling a full fledged addiction to prescription pain medication. And it ain’t pretty.
After Ben’s tonsillectomy last week, he was given a prescription for Tylenol with codeine. I was told to give it to him every four hours as needed. Well, “as needed” in this case meant every four hours on the dot. The alternative was just not an option— he was barely tolerable while medicated. I called his doctor last night, begging for another refill. (The first bottle really did spill, whether they believed me or not.) I was declined and told to ween him off immediately, as these drugs are highly addictive. Now they tell me?
Which brings us to this afternoon. Ben is m-i-s-e-r-a-b-l-e. Regular Tylenol is hardly doing the trick and I’m about ready to jump ship. He’s whining in that tonsillectomy induced high pitched voice, his skin pasty and white and his breath smells like the depths of hell. Loads of fun here, I tell you.
Withdrawal totally sucks. Especially when you never even got the high.