Another Rehab on the Horizon?

Of course there were so many signs pointing to the fact that Bob was losing control of his emotions and his pill intake. His temper was flaring all the time. He was irritable or just plain out there in his own world in his own head. When he was home he was sitting in our room smoking on the sofa, or when we were going out to dinner or a movie the first thing that would happen is, We would get in the car and of course he would ask for his pills, he had me keep them in my purse. He used his back as an excuse. It started out simple enough but by the time a year had gone by he would snap until I handed him his pills, then he would have me count them to see how many he had left. He was obsesessed with counting those damn pills. He was so afraid of running out.

He would say he couldn't stand to drive any place. Sitting was bad for his back, it caused him more pain. It was an endless chain of reasons why he was such an unhappy man. He was in Hell and I didn't get it. Imagine not being able to recognize addiction when it's looking you straight in the eye.

Another bout of denial on my part. I didn't want to face the truth. I wanted to believe the propaganda put out by the medical community. We watched a 60 minutes report on how people suffering from serious pain could not possible become addicted to the medication. What a lie. I even sent for a copy of the program to have on hand just to validate the fact that Bob needed 500 pills a month, I wanted to convice myself that there was no way he can get addicted, after all that was the reassuring message to families and victims of this pill abuse. If it was on 60 minutes, it had to be true. I will never forget that episode. an elderly womany lying on her sofa writhing in pain until she took her "Pills" then a bit later, WA LA, a miraculous transformation. From non=functional to fully functiional.
How comforting it was to know he would be safe, that our family would not be affected by his pain management as it was called. PROPAGANDA I also remember the cover of TIME or NEWSWEEK declaring that Cocaine wasn't addictive also.

That was the beginning of the Pain Management years.

We both wanted to believe the lies so desperately I was willing to put up with all the mood swings, after all, I made a promise to myself and Bob that I would stand by him as long as he didn't pick up a drink, it never changed, in my head he was Sober.
Crabby, but Sober. I was once again the oh so loyal enabler.