Down on the Pharm, with Soft Butter

So I'm lying in the hospital bed, waiting to be wheeled into surgery for my broken wrist. My bone surgeon comes in and sits down next to me and pulls out the trusty prescription pad. I'm already thinking of how I can alter his writing to look like "morphine drip for home." He talks while he writes.

"This one's for NORCO. It's for the pain. Good stuff. It'll take care of you for 8 hours at least." He tears the paper from the pad and starts a new one.

"The NORCO might make you a little sick to your stomach. Here's some ZOFRAN for the nausea. But put it on your tongue and let it dissolve. Don't swallow it whole." [The label refers to this as the "LINGUAL" route." -----And what is it with drugs and routes? My cholesterol pill is to be taken by the "oral route."]

He's now on his third page.
"A lot of people have a problem with ZOFRAN and constipation. So I 'll write you a script for a stool softener, just in case."
Huh?
Wouldn't a drip solve that?



I'm thinking of all the pills prescribed just to treat the bad effects of the previous pill. I'm reminded of a concept Hugh Downs came up with years ago which he called "The Butter-Box Principle."

You know the place in your refrigerator for sticks of butter? He described it as" a warm box inside a cold box inside a warm room," and cited it as an example of how environmentally we keep making adjustments for previous adjustments for previous adjustments. That's how I arrived with stool softener without having particularly firm feces.


Well, it turns out NORCO isn't available at the two pharmacies I visit, so they substitute a higher dose of Vicodin than I've been taking, which works quite nicely, thank you, and without the nausea and the hard... you know.

I am kind of fascinated by the packaging of the seat softener. On the label to the left of the name, is what appears to be a soft brown droplet. What the hell is that morsel supposed to be?



Hmmmmmmmm. Chocolate chips.