Tiffany opened one of my kitchen cabinets and just stood there.
This is what she was staring at.
It’s not nearly as bad as it looks. That large bottle on the left is Gabapentin, which I take three times a day. The problem is they send it in multiple small bottles instead of one large bottle like they used to. So it takes up a shitload of space. (Those bottles at the back that are upside down are meds I quit, but things have been changing so quickly that I keep them, just in case.)
That leaves a mere eight pills I take twice a day. That take up too much room for my medicine cabinet.
I take two for my blood pressure, one for my diabetes, one for my afib, one so my pulmonary edema doesn’t come back, one for my cholesterol, one for the swelling in my legs, and one for medically induced pain. – You’ve gotta love that last one.
One doctor put me on beta blockers, one doctor put me on blood thinners, one nurse practitioner put me on the water pills, and an assortment of primary physicians put on the rest.
Now, I knew a dude on nineteen different meds spread across his waking hours, with one wake up in the middle of the night. So I don’t feel so bad about my list of meds. But I can’t help but wonder if there isn’t some way to cut the list in half.
Ah well, that’s very unlikely since I’m now the proud possessor of a primary physician, a cardiologist, a pulmonologist, and any number of techs who’s goal in life seems to be to see just how uncomfortable they can make me while they take pretty pictures of my insides.
I have to agree that a cupboard full of medicine is kind of scary, but so far I’ve outlived a primary doctor and one of those people who do wellness checks. Now all I’ve got to do is outlive an overweight cardiologist and I will tie my father’s old record. And why is it that the people who tell you you need to lose weight all seem to need to lose weight?
Yup, I’m wandering again.
