You've got a surgery date and a decent chance of coming home with opioid pain medication. Take that part seriously. These drugs do their job, and they've earned their reputation — bringing them into your house is not a ho-hum errand. It doesn't call for fear. It calls for a plan, made now, while your head is clear. Work the list, check things off, print it for your point person.
This is a logistics checklist: people, conversations, and household planning. It is not medical advice, and nothing here tells you what to take or not take. Every decision about medication belongs to you and your care team — this list is about everything around that decision. And none of it is about suspicion or watching anyone. Every item here is support, thought through ahead of time.
The hospital handles the standard surgery stuff. This list is only the opioid part — show up with your half already written.
Nobody does the first week alone on purpose. Decide who's on your crew before surgery day.
Everything in this section is easier to do clear-headed, which means now.
Structure is the plan. Fill the calendar before you're on the couch.
The plan isn't done when you feel better. Two loose ends and a debrief.
Mid-plan, mid-week, or three weeks out — the move is the same. Any of these counts as doing something:
Knees, backs, shoulders — surgery happens to every crew, and opioid prescriptions come with a lot of them. How supervisors and stewards support someone through it is part of what I cover in trainings. Book a call.
About three years sober, I had knee surgery and got sideways with the opioids afterward. For every surgery since, I've made this exact plan, and it has held. This is important stuff, not to be taken lightly — and not complicated, either. If you use this checklist, tell me how it worked: brett@brettlovins.com.