Thursday, January 29, 2009

Dentists and Klonopin and Bed Wetting

Yesterday (I think it was Wednesday) we went to Provo. My friend Jim Noorlander went with, what a treat! I almost don’t deserve to have such great people around me. You wanna know how great he is? He helped me limp around at the dentist office, the helped get me food at the Golden Corral later when we went to lunch together. He even wiped my nose for me when it was dirty.

I don't know what you think of people who treat you like that, but I know Jim Noorlander is one of the few that I count as my brothers in the fullest sense of that word. If the opportunity arose for me to take his place to give my life for his, Jim would never ask, but I would never hesitate for an instant. Jim goes through some difficult times just now, and thinks he has lost most of what he strove for, but in the greater war, he is one of the mightiest of Heavenly Father's generals, and without his efforts thousands would be lost. Thank God for Jim Noorlander!

Anyway the dental hygienist took xrays and cleaned. We discussed a prosthetic device that will keep me from breaking any further teeth. I need a crown and a filling replaced. It will require at least three return trips to his lab for dental operations.

While the hygienist worked, I noted that some rather large pieces of hard stuff were being flushed away. She said it was broken crown material. I don't remember ever biting my teeth that hard, though I recall irritation with sharps cutting my tongue and cheek.

I have turned into an incessant and ever voluble chatterbox, blabbering all the time about the most inane things. Ruth, the delivering angel, brought some instant dissolving Klonopin yesterday. I don't want it, or most of the other drugs doctors have given me.

[Postscript from Jim's honest alter-ego: I am lying. I am such a liar about the luscious, wonderful, beautiful, heavenly drugs. Please give me drugs that make me feel good. I want them always. Don't let me feel the hurt. I won't do anything bad any more, I'm sorry!, just stop hurting me please, I can do anything you want me to,just give me nice drugs that will stop the hurting, I can't I cannot I cannot hurt any more please stop the hurting before it comes again, I am so afraid of the sharks, I'll do anything you say I promise, I promise Just stop me from hurting, give me those nice drugs that make me feel good and I'm not afraid any more, and everything that is hurting me is going away, please helpme please HELP ME, PLEASE, PLEASE, HELP ME, PLEASE HELP HELP HELP HELP HELP !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!]

I put the Klonopin into the hands of my wise mother and father. They have the skill and the experience to see when I can best benefit.

Anyway, last evening I was very distraught, and they decided to administer one of the pills just before I went to bed. It was so effective, I rested on pillows of pure cloud, and did not awake from slumber until a familiar sensation of wetness and warmth raised my awareness to alarm.

I was peeing the bed! I have not done that for more than fifty years!

In the process I tried to aim the stream out off the bed, and discovered that I just could not stand up. I finally located a urinal and squirted a little bit there, but most went on the floor. Okay, the bed was mostly saved. Now I had to just get off the wet stuff.

Pretty pathetic. Pure comedy.

I was convinced that I needed gloves, 'cause all the nurses stop and get them first before they do anything that exposes them to body fluid, I couldn't find any rubber gloves. We have boxes of them around, but that’s another story. I spotted some woolly insulated gloves and put them on best I could, but could not get thumbs in right, no matter how many times I tried.

I was laughing like a crazy man in the mean time, fits of absolute humor about nothing in particular would sweep over me every me every few seconds, and I would just laugh like I never have in my life. Mean time, I am wrapped up in peed-on wet clothing in varying stages of soaking wet and dripping with pee, and stinking with my own urine. It was such a struggle just to remove the wet stuff. Pretty much went okay until the right shoe, then I was stuck, and just hopeless, and took what seemed like an hour to work that damned shoe and sock down, fraction of an inch at a time, and finally I could use the left foot to push the whole wet mess off and and could only find insulated things with wool, so I got the wet stuff off and crawled back into the bed buck naked, clothed with my Cox ATV sports cap and the wool gloves for safety. As I think about it now, I had the gloves on the wrong hands at the time, which is why it was so difficult to get the thumbs to align properly. That seems to be as good a hypothesis as any other, anyway.

I went back to sleep like that, and don't remember anything at all for several hours, but when I awoke, I found was somewhat distressed to find myself and my room so obviously disarrayed. I don’t usually sleep like that.

So I called dad to help.

I am beginning to ask about what options I have. Before, I refused. Now, they begin to seem too real. Will I need these kinds of help soon?

You all know what these are, and you've made and heard the same jokes about them that I have. Now, to me, they have turned into something real and very awful looming in my future. I certainly hope my mission here is done long before that comes to pass. But I WILL endure to the end, COME WHAT MAY. GOD'S WILL BE DONE. It has been too long coming that I gave true recognition to that fact. Thanks and all praise be to Him for His Eternal blessings.



Anonymous said...

Oh dear. What have I done?

The Klonopin is intended to help you stop freaking out, not to make you pee yourself. Oh well. If you found comedy in it, I guess . . .

Perhaps you could try a half? It is a strong dose, and I am sharing my anti-anxiety meds with you illegally. Shhhhh ... don't tell!

Hey, I wrote a blog for you yesterday regarding the donkey episode and what we discussed. Read and respond, won't you? Also, Becky had some good response to it I thought you might like to read. You'll have to wade through the multiple blogs I wrote yesterday while I was waiting for you to get home from the dentist. But you told me to write in my blog about what we had discussed, so I did.

I love you.


Jim Cobabe said...


Mom and dad decided I nedded it so I took it. I turned all the drugs over to their judgment and skill. They deemed that something was warrented. Perhaps you can talk to mom about what they might expect when I take sme of the stuff. Also, It turned out fine-- I was lughing my head off most of the time =. Jim Noorlander thought I was drunk. Have to take his word for that, I guess.

I am readong your blog and I love you too. Please consider some of the alternative propositions I wrote with your dear husband. He needs the light as much as you,

Anonymous said...

I really think you should only take half of the Klonopin. I've never had such a reaction, but then I've been taking it for quite awhile. I don't have the same manifestation in my anxiety either. It probably isn't the right medication for you, but I figured it was better than rats and paper donkeys, you know?

And maybe its as much for mom and dad as it is for you. Even if it just makes you go to sleep, then they know you're sleeping and they won't worry so much. They don't know what to do when your anxiety kicks in. It freaks them out. I'll talk to mom and tell her to just give you a half until you go see the doctor and get some official meds, ok?

I've read your advice, and will read it with Darrin too. I always take your advice to heart.



Anonymous said...

I'm much happier with your ammended blog. Made me laugh like you can't believe.

The glove thing - I didn't realize you were trying to put on wool gloves for hygiene. What a clever genius you are! LOLOL



PS - Have I scared your other reader/responders away, or is it you???

Jim Cobabe said...


I don't write for any particular target audience. Just to please myself. If someone else should happen to look in occasionally, let them please themself. If it pleases them to make an occasional comment, that's okay too. Either way, my primary purpuse is to express myself. If that happens to interest anyone else, so much the better. If not, that's okay too. Let them stay away in droves.

Jim Cobabe said...


I haven't heard from Patricia lateley,she may be having a rough spell with her daughter. Her family comes first.

As for web traffic on Snail Hollow, Sitemeter reports more than 180 visitors in th past seven days from across the states with even some few from other international locations. I have no idea what brings people here. Few leave comments-- they just glance quickly at the page in passing, and go on by. I'm happy they paid a shrt visit.

I suppose many of the page hits are actuallly some sort of automated page crawler or RSS feed. I don't care.

Anonymous said...

Well, I suspect that people are a little nervous to respond, but are still reading, nonetheless.

Your recent discovery of just how vulnerable we are in our mortality is a subject matter that tends to make the strongest among us squirm. People tend to not know what to say. I, on the other hand, prattle on like an idiot no matter the topic!