I’ve recovered considerably from Monday’s little indignity, and although I haven’t had time or energy to comment on the big stories of the week, I should be back in fighting form soon enough. Just a couple of little items for tonight:
At the conclusion of all the injecting and slicing and yanking and scraping and drilling and grafting and suturing on Monday, the good Dr Franzetti prescribed for me some strong (600 mg) ibuprofen, and also some Vicoprofen, which is the same thing with hydrocodone mixed in. The aftermath was indeed very painful, but not wanting to take the opiates if I didn’t need to, I started off on the plain stuff. It seemed to do the job adequately well, especially in combination with ample doses of Scotland’s amber restorative. In fact, I found myself feeling rather capital in all sorts of other little ways; in particular, my ruined knee (which is next in line for the surgeon’s blade) has bothered me less this week than it has in years, while the general achiness and creakiness that I’ve resigned myself to as simply the toll I must pay for the great store of wisdom I’ve accumulated has abated considerably as well. Why, I even noticed that one morning, despite having medicated myself rather liberally the night before with Caledonia’s aforementioned elixir, I awoke with none of the usual aftereffects. I began to suspect that this ibuprofen stuff was something of a modern miracle.
And then — lo and behold! — I ran across this just now, right out of the blue:
A CHEAP over-the-counter painkiller may have astonishing powers to extend life, say researchers.
That does it, I’m a believer. I wonder what our pal Mangan thinks of this; he’s always au courant with this sort of thing. I must ask him.
I have one more morsel for you tonight: an article by Steve Sailer on Ben Franklin’s views about immigration. In it he mentions a pamphlet on the topic by Dr Franklin called Observations Concerning the Increase of Mankind, which I’ve never read. I think I’ll go do so now.
Right after I have some more ibuprofen.