Friday, September 9, 2011

Irony, aka Life's way of punching you in the teeth

I'm getting shoulder surgery at the end of the month and though I've been dealing with this for the last 7 years, I recently decided I'm a big baby and I need to take pain meds for this issue.

Well, because I have to work in a fairly professional environment, the doc and I decided to leave the narcotics for post-surgery. He gave me this other pain med that's supposed to allievate pain without making me a fucking moron.

But then he gave me muscle relaxors.

Tricky, tricky doctor.

I decided to read the labels for what he prescribed me and noticed this horribly written warning: "Use care using machines". Not heavy machinery, but machines.

Of course, I mocked this badly written warning with my dear friend Leah and we made Terminator references.

Then I took my phone on a trip to get Chipotle (Take that schemeing spouse! I'll be fat if I want!) and dropped it. Cracking the screen.

Life. Punch. Teeth.

Drugs are bad, m'kay.

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