Sleep and Recovery

Last night, I slept 8 hours straight. Or, if I didn't, at least I don't remember being up. Why is this worth noting? Because it's the first time it's happened in more than a week thanks to Joe's rebellious appendix decided to act out late last Monday night. In fact, once since then I slept for 5 or 6 hours but mostly it's been just 2-3 hours at a time.

And if I sound rambly, it's because even though last night was a lot of awesome sleep, I'm still not completely recovered.

Speaking of recovery, Joe's doing okay despite my occasional urges to strangle him. Friday night he as still in a lot of pain and started freaking out because he was almost out of the heavy duty pain meds the doctor had prescribed. He begged me to call and get a refill. Like a good wife (but not like THE Good Wife because if I had awesome curly hair like Julianna Margulies I would never straighten it like that), I left a message and waited for the on-call doctor to return my call.

Only, apparently this guy was bitter at having to be on-call for Thanksgiving weekend or failed his bedside manner unit in medical school because he was the rudest person I've dealt with during this entire appendix adventure.

Dr. Jerkface: What do you want?
me: My husband had an appendectomy on Tuesday and is still having a lot of pain but he'll be out of pain medicine tomorrow. Can he get a refill?
Dr. Jerkface: Tuesday? It's been four days. He shouldn't be having that much pain.
me: He says he is.
Dr. Jerkface: Yeah, but it's been four days. That much pain isn't normal.
me: Should I be concerned? Does that indicate a problem?
Dr. Jerkface: No.
me: Okay, then what do you suggest?
(he asks and I answer a whole bunch of questions)
Dr. Jerkface: I can call him in something, but I can't call him in the same thing.
me: Ok, thanks.
Dr. Jerkface: I mean, I can, but I won't. Do you have the bottle? What does it say on the bottle?
me: It says "endocet."
Dr. Jerkface: I have no idea what that is.
me: It's generic for percocet.
Dr. Jerkface: Then why didn't you say percocet?
me: Because you asked what it said on the bottle.
Dr. Jerkface: I'll call in something LESS THAN percocet. What pharmacy?
me: It's the hospital pharmacy.
Dr. Jerkface: I don't think they're open. It's a holiday.
me: I was just there Wednesday. They were only going to be closed yesterday for Thanksgiving.
Dr. Jerkface: If they answer, I'll have them fill something.
me: ...

That doesn't even begin to convey how rude this guy was to me. The thing is - I was fine with him calling in something "less than" the original. But he could've delivered the exact same message and left me feeling a lot more confident that Joe's pain at this point didn't mean he was infected or dying or something else horrible. I understand their concerns about addiction and/or recreational narcotics abuse. But I don't understand being so damn rude to a patient.

Anyways, back to the part where I have the urge to strangle my dear recovering husband. I tell him what the doctor said. He decides at that point that he doesn't need to take as many pills as often and starts cutting back drastically. Saturday, he only takes one of the new meds (the doctor called in Vicodin, which surprised me because I totally expected him to prescribe gummy bears after that conversation) and decides he doesn't like it so Sunday he's all good on just an ibuprofen or two.

Seriously?

But that's okay because I'd rather go through all of it - the cranky doctor, chasing after meds, even the entire emergency/surgery situation - then have him in pain. Or worse.

And with that, I think it may be time for my nap.