My mum has been prescribed morphine to help her get over the effects of her radiotherapy.
Unfortunately, for reasons that I don't need to go into, it didn't arrive until a few days after the treatment and is taken in a manner that my mum pronounced “ridiculous”. And, having visited her last night, I have to agree. Suffice to say it involves a hard to fit stopper, an inverted bottle of liquid, a syringe with tiny measurements and a manoeuvre to the inside of the cheek. It was a challenge for the visiting district nurse, let alone a woman of close to eighty.
Rational, scientific, out-of-the box-thinking person that I am, I came up with a radical alternative. Pour the appropriate dose into a spoon and slurp it down. So last night we gave it a go. Mum was delighted with the new method, as it was so much easier and she would actually take it, rather than, as I suspect, simply not take it because it was all way too difficult.
The only slight problem was that mum filled the spoon a little more than required. As she had obviously not been taking it anyway, I thought there was no harm in taking a “catch up” dosage. As it approached her usual going to bed time, I decided to wake her.
She awoke, very smiley and contented. We joked about the effects of the morphine and the dangers of addiction for a woman of her age, fighting cancer. Was she a bit giggly or did I imagine it? She went up to bed, where she normally reads and listens to the radio for a while but, on this occasion, went straight off to sleep. This morning she was still more smiley and cheerful than usual.
It is clearly pretty good stuff. She has three bottles of it and I will look forward to our conversations over the next few days with great interest.
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