Tramadol Disappointment
Just over a year ago now I was in hospital for a week, having been knocked off my motorbike and given a compound elbow break for my troubles. I did recount it on the 'Why I Was Late' qotw.

Anyway, once I was out of surgery they put me on some lovely lovely drugs. IV morphine, I pretty much feel normal, then my brother presses the button on a little keyfob thing, I start yelling at him and fall asleep before I finish the sentence. Repeat for roughly 5 days.

The trouble with all this is that the IV was in my left hand, and my right arm was in a massive foam sling hung up next to me. As the days progressed, I got a bit more active and felt less 'mashed off my face'. As such, I was using my left hand a fair bit to do everything. Which resulted in the IV being yanked about a lot, and being ripped out. Trouble being I wasn't too disturbed by that either, because I was still, as they say, 'tripping balls'. Eventually though, I got fed up of it and pulled it out, announcing confidently to the room full of dying old people that I could do without their fancy-pants drugs. Why, I don't know. Free medical-grade opiates are definitely my thing.

So bedtime that night, I'm starting to waiver slightly at the prospect of a night with an arm with about 22 different pieces of metal in it, without the warm arms of morphine to sleep in.

Imagine my joy, when a nurse hands me a paper cup with 2 Tramadol pills in it. For those who aren't opiate fiends, Tramadol is a world-class addictive substance, and a derivative of morphine. I gulped those down and settled in for a trip in front of 24 Season 4 on the portable DVD my brother had bought me.

Woke up about 3 hours later. 24 still playing in my ears. Felt normal, but was aware of my purpose. Slowly manoeuvred myself upright in bed. Started unwrapping the bandages holding my sling on. Attempted to pull the drain connected to the back of my arm out. Very painful, decide against it for now; just carry the beaker the drain leads to.

Limp very slowly to the door (the seven hours I had spent on my side during surgery had caused a very bad haematoma in my thigh, which nearly required surgery itself!) and go into the nurses' station. The on-duty nurse looks a bit shocked to see me, but it's all fine, I know exactly why I'm supposed to be here. I limp up to her - "I've got a message for you." "What, on your mobile phone?" the on-duty nurse asks. I duly reply with the immortal line; "No - have you heard of Jack Bauer?" She hasn't, and looks quite bewildered. I decide this getting up thing is a really poor idea, and limp back to bed, after a bandaging sesh.

Except as I get to my bed, I see a black orderly walking past the nurses' station, which I immediately assume is my black boss(and I am aware of the slightly racist undertone behind this drug-induced assumption)and that it's time for work. So the nurses spend 5 minutes arguing with me about why I don't have to go to work. Eventually I realise my error and am coerced back into bed.

The disappointment in this story? The crushing knowledge that Jack Bauer didn't really need me to pass on his message. I LOVE Jack Bauer.

Apologies for length, morphine shrivels it.
( Rookie You'll have to speak up, I'm wearing a towel, Fri 27 Jun 2008, 9:13, 3 replies)

I burst out laughing at:
"No - have you heard of Jack Bauer?", brilliant!
( TY&GN, Fri 27 Jun 2008, 9:17, closed)

I know that elbow!
I don't remember you telling this story on a certain Motorbike forum you frequent! Hope its still getting better for you Rookie.
(Sickpup, Fri 27 Jun 2008, 10:26, closed)

have a click
for making me laugh loads!
(Katzilla Follow Me! @Kat_Zilla (I don't promise funnehs), Fri 27 Jun 2008, 10:35, closed)