Like Mother, Like Son

One week after Rex started his pain meds, he seemed back to his normal self.

When he wanted to go out in the morning, he gently laid his head on my bed -- which is flush with his height. The perfect dog alarm.

When he wanted a walk, he once again bounded around the living room rampant, like an unbroken bucking bronco, leaving the two thick floor rugs askew.

When he wanted a treat, he swung into position, sitting before the word SIT could leave my mouth, back straighter than mine ever was in childhood when my piano teacher would tell me to sit up.

The old Rex was back. He finished his prescriptions of Rimadyl, Cephalexin, and Tramdol. And he seemed like his old self again.

Whew.

A few days later...

I hurt my back. I got snarly. I didn't want to get up. My leg hurt from radiating pain. I figured it was sciatica -- the pinching of a sciatic nerve in the lower back.

I tried a heating pad. I tried a cold pack. I tried walking it off. I tried sleeping it off. I took Ibuprophen. That helped some, but I worried about taking too much Ibuprophen. And the pain kept coming back. Nothing worked. After a week and a half, I limped in to the doctor's office.

"They lump all of these pains into the low back pain category," she said.

The doctor gave me a 30-page printout of exercises and two prescriptions: Cyclobenzaprine, a muscle relaxant, and Tramadol, a pain reliever.

Yes. Tramadol. The same drug that Rex had just been prescribed. Well... we did have the same symptoms. Back leg pain. Unresponsive. Snarly.

I just didn't think animals and humans were supposed to take the same medications.

But what was good enough for my son, was good enough for me.