They haven’t yet told me when. I’m actually a little anxious about releasing my postoperative body into my care. That’s not weird, is it? I found out this morning that I have even more reason to worry.
My doctor prescribed me pain pills–not Valium, unfortunately for my itchy skin–and an antibiotic. The pharmacist told me to start taking them right away. In fact, he said I should take them at shorter intervals than prescribed for that first day, since it was late afternoon and I was behind schedule. I assumed I was supposed to start taking them up until the day of surgery. I went home over the weekend, and my mother pointed out that there were far too few pills to last me until D-Day, or B-Day, or whatever. There would have been far fewer, if I hadn’t skipped at least one dose almost every day.
On Monday, I told the nurse-practitioner about it at my pre-op history appointment, and she called my doctor to ask him. He called me, but I failed to check my home messages for two days. When I finally heard the message, I started worrying that my surgery date would be vacated because I hadn’t taken my pre-op meds reliably, and was all set to harangue him into getting me another surgery date right away. (“I’m not going to be penalized because no one at Kaiser can figure out how many times four goes into twenty-eight…”)
I finally reached him this morning, and he told me that they were post-operative antibiotics, and that he was sending a scrip down to the pharmacy which I should make sure to pick up prior to surgery.
In other words, I kept forgetting to dose myself with a medication I wasn’t actually supposed to be taking at all. If I go septic, I want you all to know how much fun I had blogging here.