As most of you may know, I was hospitalized during December with a cellulitis infection in my right leg. I spent 11 days in an extremely nice room at Rapid City Regional Hospital, being cared for by an excellent and competent staff who were also genuinely nice people.
After returning home, I was prescribed Vicodin (hydrocodone) for pain management, but after refilling those once, I determined that I was going to find something non-narcotic to fill that role, having done the Vicodin addiction thing once, back in 2003.*
I already knew that Tylenol (acetaminophen) wouldn't cut it for me -- that barely helps when I have a headache. So I decided to "shop around" with some of the various non-prescription NSAIDs and other pain relievers. I tried Aleve (naproxen sodium) after quitting Vicodin in 2003, but soon found I was taking as many as 12 a day; the dosage instructions say to take one every 12 hours. One of my nephrologists said that it was likely that this was what destroyed my kidneys.
I decided that I would begin with Ibuprofen. Much to my surprise, I believe that I hit the jackpot the first time. Taking three Ibuprofen in the morning and again around dinnertime seems to keep the pain at bay, perhaps even better than the Vicodin did, and without the goofiness that the Vicodin brought on. This is in keeping with the dosage instructions as well, which say not to exceed six Ibuprofen in a 24-hour period.
*If you haven't heard this story, a cautionary tale: After my catastrophic head-on car wreck in December 2002, I spent seven months in a series of four different hospitals. When at last I came home, I was given a bottle of 250 Vicodin, with the dosage instructions: "Take one every 12 hours as needed for pain." Well, of course, if one is good, two must be better, and within about six weeks of coming home, I was taking as many as 12 a day. Do you see a pattern developing here? At any rate, one day I started to take some Vicodin and I stopped and said to myself, "Self, if you don't stop this, you're going to die," and I did what any red-blooded American in that situation would do -- no, I didn't sell them on the street, although, looking back, that would have been lucrative -- I flushed them.
Bad move.
Not only was there the pain to deal with, but about 18 hours after I did this, the withdrawal symptoms hit. It was as if t h e o u t s i d e w o r l d w a s i n s l o w m o t i o n whilemymindwasracingatabout70,000milesanhour. I finally called my wife and said, "I think I'm losing my mind." I told her what I'd done and she came home and took care of me for the next three days. 36 hours after they had hit, the withdrawal symptoms vanished as suddenly as they had come on.
The moral of the story: If you're hooked on Vicodin, don't go cold turkey.
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