Non-Adoption News: NEW GAME!

I realize My Sisters Jar has been overtaken with adoption news.  For those readers who are looking for sage advice on other areas of life…. I’m here for you today.  You’re welcome.

NEW GAME!  The Crosby’s are fierce game addicts.  Seriously, our luggage to Colombia was supremely limited, but we did bring six games!  (Sorry, just a tad bit of adoption trivia.) See!  Addicted!  Anyway, my college roommate came for a visit this summer and taught us to play Carcassonne!  I love it.  Then my brother got it for Christmas… and he lives across the street from us!  Now that I also have a 7-year-old daughter who likes to ride bikes with his 6-year-old son, we set up a table in the driveway and play Carcassonne!  (Sorry, more adoption references. It has truly taken over my life.)

So, I received two copies of Mary Beth Chapman’s book Choosing to See.  What an awesome story of their family, their adoptions, their struggles, etc.  (Sorry, it’s still kind of adoption news related.)  Anyway, I returned one and went in search of Carcassonne!  It took me a while, but I stumbled on THEM (more than one!) at a game store in the mall. 

Now, two Christmases ago my brother received the game Ticket to Ride Europe.  I ran out and bought Ticket to Ride North America for Rick’s birthday (Feb. 3).  But the N.A. game is the dumbed-down version of the European game.  We still like it, but we love my brother’s version.  Remembering this….. I was cautiously sucked into looking at another version of Carcassonne… called The Discovery.  There are no roads, just fields, seas and mountains.  Scoring is different too with fewer playing pieces so you have to stay on top of your game all throughout the game.  I think I like our version better!  Thankfully!

If you need a new Family Game Night adventure…. Carcassonne!  You won’t be sorry.

NOT a Narc Addict…. OK!

Today, I was asked to sign a narcotics form at my doctor’s office…. promising that I would not call the doctor after hours and beg for refills, or pester the pharmacist for early refills, or ever say that my drugs were lost/stolen/eaten by the dog, or ever hoard my drugs.  They asked for my pharmacy name and made me sign my name on a line that said this is the SOLE pharmacy that I would get my drugs at.  I think I’m being profiled as a middle class, white, female prescription drug addict.

It was probably not a good move on my part to show up at the doctor’s office without makeup and with bed head….. in hindsight, I understand her shifty eyes and concern.  She’s never seen me without makeup or jewelry.  I guess I might have looked like a junkie… begging for pain meds.

She would not give me any vicodin.  I understand that….. I just finished telling her that I had taken my last vicodin pill.  So she switched me to another narcotic that is less powerful, but not less addicting.  Like I’m addicted!  I took 15 pills over a period of a month for dental pain.  That’s half a pill a day, not what I would call addicted.  And I took eight of them the first week!  So that left me seven pills for three weeks! 

Needless to say, I felt somewhat humbled today.  I called my dear husband and told him I had to sign up for Narcs Anonymous today.  He scared me by asking if the sheet said they send a copy to the police!?!  Um, no, it didn’t mention law enforcement.  And yes, I read the whole thing!  Every word, because I found it amusing that I was required to sign it.  It also taught me interesting facts about addictive behaviors… I never thought of some of those ideas before today!  My dog ate the pills!  Pffft!  The dog would be in a coma for weeks!  And the pills smell and taste horrible… I don’t think our picky dog would even be tempted!

After the doctor I went to Target at 2:00 pm to fill the script for the six pills to get me through two more days of dental pain.  Guess what?  They take their lunch at 2:00 pm.  So my new drugs would not be ready for an hour.  I needed a nap!  So I went home without my new pills that the doctor is hoping I’m not addicted to.  I never went back and got them.  See!  I’m not addicted, …. OK!?

I understand hoarding scrapbooking supplies and fabric… but not outdated prescription drugs.  Good grief.