Pain killers anyone?!?! I think I'll pass!

Surgery went well and after the doc had me all stitched up and ready to go he does what every good doctor does and prescribed me some pain killers for the ride. I was given oxycodine and swore I would not use them because most drugs make me super loopy. Then the pain set in...OUCH! I started taking the pills immediately. However, one didn't seem to be enough. I called the help line to figure out what to do. The doc on call...who sounded quite young and cute...told me the pain was normal, it would last a week, TAKE TWO. This meant doubling up on my pills. Now I'm sure this sounds fun...a break from reality! It started out fine. I took my two pills every four hours. Finally, I decided I was ready to face the pain. GO STRONG WOMAN!
About 12 hours after my last pill, it was bedtime. Time to put my foot up and relax. Only I couldn't. I sat. And sat. And sat. Then I finally fell asleep only to wake five minutes later after horrifying dreams. I couldn't focus. I was sure I was dying. The cast was choking the life out of me. I HAD to GET IT OFF!! Apparently, I am a little loopy on drugs...or rather going back off of them. I freaked out! I went into a drug induced panic attack.
My husband had no idea what he was dealing with. I told him I was taking it off. He responded with "I will tie you up if you try." OK so...I am already convinced I am being killed by this thing and now he is going to tie me up with it. I do the only thing I can think of....I'm sure my Mom wasn't expecting the 3am phone call.
My mom, bless her, gets in her car to come to the rescue of her dying daughter. She decides the best thing is to take me to ER in case the cast is too tight or I need to be sedated! She arrives at the hospital with her "wild eyed" daughter and, of course, we begin the wait. Everyone else seemed to realize the cast was not killing me after all.
After waiting until 5:30 am, the NP comes in to check it out. She understands that the cast is a concern and takes off the outer bandage. She sees the part that is "killing" me and tells another nurse that they can bend it back. He, however, can not find the instrument to do this. Being the guy that he is, he improvises and comes back with a speculum. Yes ladies, that's right, I am going to be cured with the very instrument that strikes fear into me once a year! (He also had plenty of medical tape to add strength to his new found tool!)
The story ends with the drugs finally exiting my system, a new prescription for anti-anxiety pills, a new feeling towards the ever-dreaded speculum, and $125 gone from my bank account.
So next time they offer me drugs (and they did write me a prescription for Hydrocodine), I think I'll pass and deal with the pain!