I rarely take painkillers. I have to be nearly convulsing in pain to swallow one. I took one today because the pain was that bad and now I remember why I don't use them. I was knocked out drooling for the better part of the day. In a pinch I could form 2 word sentences like, "Ask Tara," "Go Away," and "Make Toast."When I regained consciousness I found:
* a box of cheese crackers dumped and crushed into the floor
* a pan of brownies consumed for lunch as well as a bag of popcorn and M&Ms.
* books, DVDs, paper, and strangely enough cinnamon sugar everywhere.
* Amy had "used the facilities" on the tile, carpet, and in her pants which are deposited somewhere in the house. I haven't found them yet.
* Tara had called a close friend and told her I took a horse pill (that would be the antibiotic I was prescribed) and a Loritab and was lying on the bed. I think that is when I started coming out of the fog.
My kids said it was awesome and that I could be sick anytime.
(I have a lot more sympathy for babies with ear infections. This thing is kicking my butt. Oh, but once my ear drum ruptured, I started feeling a lot better.)