Heart Fine, Part Two: The Drug Program

Anyone released from a hospital after a significant stay usually returns home with a short list of drugs that will aid in their continued recuperation. I am no exception to this unwritten rule. My day-to-day drug regimen of six pills is on temporary hold, and reduced to five pills. Of these, the simvastatin, toprol, and children’s aspirin are part of my everyday drug diet.

I feel sorry for the children’s aspirin because it has such an odd dosage: 81 mg. Most drug dosages come in increments of zero or five, but not one! If it wasn’t some type of man-made medication and had the human power of speech and emotion, it would certainly be within its right to loudly protest this slight. However, regardless of its personal feelings on this matter, the 81 mg has proven effective in keeping millions of us heart patients alive so that we can protest loudly whatever the hell we want to protest about.

I have lasix prescribed to me to combat the excess water weight I took on since my surgery. I think I gained something like eight pounds of water while in the hospital. This was according to the hospital scale, which I assume is far more sophisticated than the $19.95 scale I have in my upstairs hallway. This drug is a diuretic. In other words, I love it that it’s taking away my excess weight gain; I hate it because it makes me piss my brains out every ten minutes. Let’s just say I have limited my daily activities so that I’m no more than ten feet from the nearest commode at all times.

Of course, with all that water leaving my body, it could take some good stuff with it. In this case, the doctors prescribed a potassium pill to replenish that element in my system. I’ve examined the pills and wondered if (warning: Sigmund Freud-style double entendre ahead) I could get the same results by downing a banana. Coincidentally, the pill itself is about the size of your average banana. All-in-all, I’ll take the pill instead of the banana. I’ve never grown accustomed to the taste of a banana enough to eat more than two or three slices at a time, let alone a whole one.

One other pill which I didn’t include in the above list because it is taken on an “as needed” basis is the pain killer. Oh, wonderful pain killer! You help me sleep at night and ease the discomfort from the incisions in my chest. I could take steps to lessen the chance of pain by curtailing certain activities: coughing, sneezing, very deep breathing, and laughing. In other words, no “Robot Chicken” or old episodes of “Mystery Science Theatre 3000” in my immediate future.

The painkiller is a dangerous pill, and I’m not referring to its addictive qualities. It’s dangerous because of its hallucinatory nature. For example, I had a conversation with a hospital nurse about Terrell Owens. I gave the nurse the impression that I thought T.O. had a down to earth quality about him. T.O. down to earth? What was I thinking? Only once when the words left my mouth did I realize that I was thinking of Donovan McNabb, and not T.O. I actually confused these two men in my drug addled state! So apologies to that nurse and Donovan McNabb for my mistake.

The hallucinations have continued here at home. Yesterday, Anne Marie commented that I seemed mellow to everything in my life. I agreed, and it felt nice knowing that nothing bothered me. I even possessed an unconditional acceptance for the status quo. I caught myself thinking, “Hell, let’s change the Constitution so that W. can run for a few more terms. Woo-hooo!”

I ain’t doing that drug today, and I’ll make sure I don’t take it on Election Day either!