In Which We Are Medicated


Lalala, another day, another medical crisis. I mentioned a while ago that I had started a daily regimen of a pain medicine called Opana. That was about 5 years ago and things have gone along just fine since then. Of course this is America and pain management, especially with an opioid, is tricky business. The government has forced doctors to treat pain control like a luxury that you have to prove you are worthy of.

anyway. This month my pharmacy broke the bad news to me that they had stopped making Opana. Oops. I scrambled back to my doctor in a panic because running out of pain medicine is not a good idea. The doctor said “oh. okay. Here try this new stuff. It sounds pretty okay.” I’m paraphrasing but that’s pretty close to the sense of the conversation.

The new drug instead of a pill is a film you stick on the inside of your cheek and it dissolves. I am thrilled with it, it has whipped my fucked up back into submission and it seems much less sedating than the old stuff. Yay. Since it was only one film every 12 hours, it’s also convenient.

The problem initially was that one every 12 hours fell a little short and meant that I actually was starting to go into withdrawal towards the end of the dose. I called the doctor back after a very uncomfortable night and he said “oh just double the dose. What the hell?” Again paraphrasing.

So now I’m back to dosed up, pain-free and sassy. It’s a wonderful life if you don’t weaken.

naked men I’d like to hang with.

Just a giy. Just a guy with a great big whacker. Whack it baby.

I know his ass isn’t particularly shapely, but he seems so darn cheery.

A friend used to call these guys “thug lite.”

Crimes of Photoshop.

Our old friend Gian Luigi Volti. Now available for rent at reasonable rates. Apply within.

Barrett Long (I love that stupid name) who has been around since long before photoshop and has always had that generous amount of man sausage so, happily, we can rest assured that it is real.

Isn’t it romantical?

Truth in advertising. Not much butt action this week, sorry.

11 responses »

  1. Pain is a word doctors are loathed to use. They will go for discomfort instead. Like that makes it better.

    Then there is the puritanical streak in this country, which feels that pain and suffering is good for you. Not for them, but for you.


  2. Pingback: In Which We Are Medicated – A New Gay Agenda

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