Recently, though, his pain has been worsening, and nothing I've given him is touching it. I've tried increasing pill strength and changing narcotics, to no avail.
Because of his severe pain, I finally admitted him directly to the hospital, to try and get things under control with injectable narcs while I decided on the next step. As always, I told his wife to bring in his pill bottles for me to review.
Sitting in the room with them yesterday, I began making my usual notes on what pills, how many were left in each bottle, etc., to make sure he was taking them correctly. As I opened one narcotic bottle after another I found that, in spite of different labels, they all contained the same white tablets with the same number stamped on them.
So I took out my phone to look up the number.
All the bottles were full of generic Tylenol. No wonder nothing touched his pain.
Further investigation revealed his daughter, who was the one picking them up, was selling the pills and replacing them with Tylenol before taking them to her elderly parents.
I hope you rot in hell.