Overmedication
Overmedication
Noah – Lisa’s Dad
Overmedication with opioids for pain management in seniors is widespread, posing risks like falls, confusion, and addiction. Safer pain management strategies and non-pharmacological approaches are increasingly emphasized to mitigate these harmful effects.
Lisa thought controlling pain medication was cruel, until she saw news segments on opioid addiction and consulted with her dad’s physician.
In the cozy warmth of Lisa’s family home, she found herself at a crossroads with her dad, who was as headstrong as he was independent.
The heart of their dilemma? Noah’s casual approach to his pain medication, especially the prescription painkillers that were meant to alleviate his discomfort, not compound it.
During one of those evenings, when the dim light softly illuminated Noah’s steadfast face, Lisa gently confronted him. “Dad, we need to have a serious talk about your meds. It’s worrying to see you taking more than what’s prescribed.”
Her dad’s rebuttal was swift, a blend of stubborn pride and a touch of denial. “Lisa, I know what I’m doing. I manage my pain my way.”
Lisa, however, couldn’t shake her concern, especially when Noah’s medication habits led to him sleeping through entire days. “Dad, this isn’t just about pain management anymore. It’s becoming risky,” she insisted, her voice tinged with a mix of worry and frustration.
Their discussions often spiraled into debates, with Lisa advocating for a more structured approach to Noah’s medication routine, and Noah fiercely guarding his independence.
Determined to bridge this growing divide, Lisa threw herself into research, seeking a solution that could offer Noah both the autonomy he cherished and the oversight his health required. That’s when she stumbled upon a sophisticated medication management system, replete with reminders and safety features.
With a flicker of hope, Lisa presented her discovery to Noah. “Dad, this could be the perfect middle ground. It reminds you to take your meds and lets me know if there’s a hiccup.”
But Noah wasn’t easily swayed. “I’m no child, Lisa. I don’t need a gadget to monitor me,” he responded, his skepticism clear.
Lisa had naively thought that dad was just taking all the meds at once and sleeping them off through the day. Turned out he had a source of extra supply that she was unaware of.
Her dad’s longtime buddy had become part of the narrative. George, with good intentions but misguided actions, had been topping off her dad’s medication from his own surplus, an act that left Lisa both stunned and deeply concerned.
Lisa’s confrontation with George was a delicate blend of earnest appeal and firm resolve. “Uncle George, I appreciate your intent, but giving Dad extra pills is downright dangerous. You should see him walk to the restroom these days, he looks wobbly, I am seriously concerned he will fall.”
Lisa was ready with research and data, to appeal to the scientist in Uncle George “A study highlighted by the American College of Emergency Physicians and reported by ScienceDaily found that over half of elderly patients (aged 65 and older) who visited an emergency department due to fall injuries suffered adverse events such as additional falls, hospitalization, and death within 6 months.”
George, surprised by the gravity of Lisa’s plea, relented. “Okay, Lisa. I didn’t grasp the seriousness of it all. I’ll stop.”
With George’s unintended supply chain cut off, Lisa and her dad found themselves back at the drawing board, the issue more pressing than ever. It was during one of their late-night heart-to-hearts that Lisa proposed a simpler, old-school solution.
“Dad, how about we go back to basics with a simple weekly pillbox? Just four sections for each day. It’s straightforward, and I will stop nagging you about the number of pills you take.” Lisa said trying to create compromises her dad could live with.
Lisa took out a small package from the box that was delivered that morning and added, “Also, I have talked to several experts and done my own research. Active Mend is a patch you put where you are hurting, and it will relieve your pain and swelling. It’s worth a try dad, please?”
Noah, drained from the relentless tug-of-war and the fallout with George, mulled over the ideas. The uncomplicated nature of a pillbox, free from the prying eyes of technology, and a sticker for his pain, appealed to his independent streak.
“Alright, Lisa,” her dad agreed, a softness in his voice that hadn’t been there before. “Let’s try it your way. But let’s keep the meddling to a minimum, agreed?”
“Agreed, Dad,” Lisa said, a wave of relief washing over her. “And no more side deals for extra pills.” She said with a fake angry face and finger pointed to his face.
As Lisa took to organizing the pillbox each week, she found a certain peace in the ritual, a quiet understanding that bridged the gap between her and her father. Their weekly check-ins evolved into moments of candid conversation and mutual concern. The patch helped with his pains, and with appropriate dosage of painkillers he was no longer walking like a little baby taking his first steps.
Forgotten Doses
Gregory, Reagan, and Viola’s Story
Viola had been sharp and independent, but age had started to cloud her memory. Lately, she struggled to remember simple things, and her medication routine was no exception.
“Mom, you’ve got to be more careful with your pills,” Gregory said during his visit, concern etched on his face. “You took an extra dose again.”
Viola frowned, frustration evident in her eyes. “I thought I only took one. I can’t keep track anymore. It’s like my mind is playing tricks on me.”
Reagan, ever the problem solver, suggested, “What if we set up a pill organizer for you, Mom? It’ll help keep things straight and make it easier for you to manage.”
Viola reluctantly agreed. They set up a weekly pill organizer, hoping it would prevent further mistakes. But despite their efforts, Viola’s forgetfulness persisted. She would occasionally forget to check the organizer or would take the wrong day’s pills.
One evening, Reagan found her mother dozing off on the couch, surrounded by pill bottles. Her heart sank as she gently shook Viola awake. “Mom, did you take your medicine again?”
Viola looked confused and a little scared. “I don’t remember, dear. I just wanted to make sure I took enough. I didn’t want to miss a dose.”
Gregory, joining them, sighed deeply. “This isn’t working. We need a better solution, something more reliable.”
They consulted with Viola’s physician, who suggested a medication management system with alarms and reminders. The doctor explained that these systems could significantly reduce the risk of medication errors. However, Viola found the technology overwhelming and intimidating.
“I’m not good with gadgets,” she admitted, her voice trembling slightly. “I don’t want to rely on them. I’m afraid I’ll just get more confused.”
Reagan and Gregory were at a loss, torn between respecting their mother’s wishes and ensuring her safety. After much discussion, they decided to compromise by arranging for a daily check-in from a home health aide. The aide would help Viola with her medication and provide companionship, which Viola sorely needed.
Viola initially resisted, feeling her independence slipping away with each new measure. She feared becoming a burden on her children and losing control over her own life. But as the days passed, she grew to appreciate the help. The aide’s gentle reminders ensured she took her medication correctly and gave her someone to talk to, easing her loneliness.
“Mom, you seem better,” Gregory observed one afternoon, relief evident in his voice. “How are you feeling?”
Viola smiled with a hint of relief in her eyes. “I’m doing alright. It’s nice having someone here to keep me on track and to chat with. I didn’t realize how much I needed it.”
Reagan nodded, her eyes misting over. “We just want you to be safe and happy, Mom. We love you so much.”
With the new routine in place, Viola’s health stabilized. She was no longer worried about taking too many pills or missing a dose, and the aide’s presence provided a sense of security. Reagan and Gregory found comfort in knowing she was taken care of and still had a semblance of independence. The balance between independence and support had been a hard-won victory, but one that brought peace to their family.
The Painful Path
Thalia, Reuben and Eric’s Story
Eric had taken a severe fall, leaving him with a broken hip and a world of pain. The doctor prescribed a small amount of pain medication to help him cope, but the relief it brought quickly turned into a crutch.
“Dad, you’ve got to be careful with those pills,” Thalia warned, her voice tinged with concern. “You’re taking more than you should.”
Eric waved her off, his face etched with pain. “It’s the only thing that helps, Thalia. I need them. Without them, the pain is unbearable.”
Reuben, concerned, added, “You don’t want to end up dependent on these, Eric. There are other ways to manage pain, and we can explore them together.”
But Eric was resolute. The pills dulled the pain that nothing else seemed to touch. He started taking them more frequently, desperate to escape the agony that haunted his every movement. Each pill became a lifeline, a momentary respite from the relentless discomfort.
One evening, Thalia found him struggling to stay awake, the pill bottle nearly empty beside him. Her heart sank as she gently shook him awake. “Dad, this has to stop. You’re overmedicating. You’re going to hurt yourself even more.”
Eric looked at her, a mix of anger and desperation in his eyes. “I can’t take the pain, Thalia. What do you expect me to do? I’m trapped in this body that just won’t stop hurting.”
Thalia and Reuben decided to intervene, consulting with Eric’s doctor about alternative pain management strategies. The doctor suggested physical therapy, a pain specialist, and a comprehensive pain management plan that included both medication and non-medication approaches. Eric was skeptical, his faith in anything but the pills shaken.
“I don’t see how that’s going to help,” he muttered, his voice heavy with doubt. “I need something that works now, not something that might work weeks from now.”
Despite his reluctance, Thalia convinced him to try. The first few sessions of physical therapy were tough, pushing Eric to his limits and often leaving him exhausted and sore. But slowly, he started to see improvement. The pain didn’t vanish, but it became more manageable, and less all-consuming.
“We’re doing this because we care about you,” Thalia reminded him during one particularly challenging session. “We don’t want to lose you to these pills. We want you to live a full life, not just exist.”
Eric nodded, his resolve weakening as he saw the concern in his daughter’s eyes. “I know, Thalia. It’s just hard to see past the pain sometimes. But I’ll keep trying.”
Reuben added, “We’ll be here every step of the way, Dad. You’re not alone in this. We’ll get through it together.”
With the support of his family and the guidance of professionals, Eric began to rely less on pain medication. The journey was arduous, filled with setbacks and small victories, but it was a path that led to a safer, healthier life. Eric learned to cope with his pain through a combination of therapies and lifestyle changes, rediscovering a sense of control over his own body.