Ninja Assasin

Mrs. Flick has shoulder surgery a couple of weeks ago. She's doing well and healing up fine, but pain management has been a bit of an issue.

Mrs. Flick is rather conservative when it comes to drugs, prescription I mean.... she wouldn't even consider recreational. Heck I have to buy her pony bottles of beer and she can barely get through one of those before it starts to get warm. So despite being in some post-op pain, she was only taking her Oxycontin at about half the dosage and in half the time frame prescribe by the doctor. The real trouble started when, after three days, she just quit cold turkey and tried to "gut it out". That's when she learned that "time-released pain meds" means that once you let it get out of your system, you're not getting any real relief for about 2 hours.

After suffering through some serious pain for a few hours, it took far less convincing to get her to take a full dose of the meds, which she did and finally at about 4 am conked out. That's when she learned the meaning of another new phrase..."opium dreams".

I was driving into work the next morning and my phone rang. " WHY ?! WHAT DID I DO ?!", Mrs. Flick was shouting at me.

" Huh ? What's wrong ?"

" I'm a good wife, I'm a good person, why would you want me dead you bastard !"

She went on to explain her very vivid dream involving me hiring a ninja to kill her and her somehow escaping..but the ninja slicing her in the neck and shoulder.

The whole thing was a bad trip which reminded me of this.

I did my best Jimmy Carter, talked her off the ledge and had her go back to bed. A half dozen hours later, no longer high and with a cup of coffee in her, we got it all straightened out....although I notice she still kinda watches me all suspicious out the corner of her eye all.

Which brings us to last night.

Last night I had a shitty day, she had a shitty day and we were chasing the kids around getting them ready for bed. " Man I could use a beer" I lamented since we haven't been keeping any alcohol in the house since I started trying to get back into shape. " You know, me too", she responded.

So while she tucked the kids in I ran down to the corner bar and grabbed me some beer ( that experience will be tomorrows post).

When I got back we sat down, relaxed, and I cracked open a couple of beers. After a few minutes of peaceful silence Mrs. Flick asked, " Hey, I took one of those pills about an hour ago, you think its ok for me to have this beer ?"

I thought for a second, " yeah sure, one beer isn't going to do anything."

Then she gave me that out of the corner of the eye look and I can tell thoughts of ninjas were going through her head, " are you sure ?"

" Yeah I'm sure...relax", but then I started thinking about it and I wasn't sure at all. I mean I wouldn't worry for me, but she doesn't drink, doesn't use drugs, and she's about 100lbs lighter than me. I doubted anything could happen, but now that she asked me ( twice) if anything did happen I didn't need that shit on my shoulders. Plus I know she told that ninja story to at least one of her friends and if she turned up dead I had a bad feeling that I'd have a tough time trying to find character witnesses that would say anything other than, " I dunno...he seems like the kinda guy who might actually do it."

So I googled Oxycontin and alcohol and the first 5 hits that came up has some variation of the same thing, " UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES DRINK ALCOHOL WITH THIS DRUG, IT WILL SUPPRESS YOUR CNS AND YOU'LL GO TO SLEEP AND NEVER WAKE UP".

" Ummmm, maybe you should stop drinking that be...", I looked up to see her finishing off the last of the bottle.

" WHAT !?!?!"

" Oh nothing dear, just kidding" and I sent her off to bed.

On Wednesdays I get up to swim and between that and the way she's got herself rigged up in a nest of pillows and pulleys and such for the shoulder, I've arranged other sleeping quarters. So I got up swam, came home showered, and went into our room to get my clothes.

The light from the open door spilled across the bed and there among the pulleys and pillows and various contraptions used to prop her up was Mrs. Flick. Her head was back, mouth agape, out completely cold and not moving. I looked a little closer for the tell tale rise and fall of the covers and the thoughts of prescription bottle disclaimers and Amish ninjas flashed through my head. " OK Flick, get ahold of yourself, you're being silly", I tried to steady myself.

I moved a little closer and leaned over her listening for her breathing and still nothing...NOTHING ! " Honey ?", I whispered. Nothing. " Hey.", and I gave her a little poke. NOTHING !

Then I just freaked out, " OH MY GOD ARE YOU ALIVE, HELLO HELLO !" and started shaking her (good) arm.

" AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH", Mrs. Flick bolted straight up, eye the size of saucers. Dazed and confused, " WHA ? WHO ? WHA ?"

" ohmygodohmygodohmygod....okokokokokokok...aaaaaa. sorry....sorry....go back to bed, everything is ok"

She was looking around blankly, " but wha ? what the ?"

" No honey its ok, everything is fine, back to bed now", and I coaxed her back onto the pulley and such and somehow got her lulled back to some sort of sleep. Then I got the hell out of dodge.