Journal of a Living Lady #47

 

Nancy White Kelly

 

My pharmacist knows me on a first name basis. Following chemotherapy yesterday, I stopped by the local pharmacy to have eight prescriptions filled. This was on top of four that were filled three days ago. The shelves above our kitchen sink display over forty partially-filled bottles of pills, drops, and tablets in a variety of colors.. Thankfully we don’t have any small children in our home.

 

I did drop a tiny purple morphine tablet recently. For more than an hour I crawled around on my hands and knees looking for that pill. My fear was that Oppie, our pet Chihuahua, might find it and innocently gulp it down.

 

A story from the Fields and Screams magazine kept playing in my mind. Seems a veterinarian and taxidermist had combined their business. Their slogan was, “Either way you get your pet back..”

 

Oppie is a beloved member of our family. I definitely wanted her alive and frisky, not dead and stuffed. So I gladly searched. There are millions of dots in our kitchen linoleum pattern that extends into the dining area. A couple of my more sanitary friends have kitchen floors upon which you could eat. I am surprised they still associate with me. You could safely eat off our table, but not our kitchen floor.

 

As I futilely groped the specks on the linoleum, my eyes got blurry. Near a huge potted plant by the window,  I found a shriveled contact lens. Nobody has worn contacts in our household in years. Obviously somebody has been sleeping under the dining table at night and taking cover under the Peace Lily. I’ll have to look into that.

 

Beneath the bottom ledge of the dishwasher, I found the back to my gold earring. Now, if I only knew where the earring was.   Finally my fingers touched the elusive plum-colored pill and Oppie was saved from a drug over-dose.

With metastatic cancer, and its multitude of symptoms, I am offered all kinds of new drugs. If  one doesn’t work, the doctor usually suggests something else. Since I am fiscally conservative, seldom do I toss anything out…certainly not pills that cost from $3 to $40 each. My accumulated stockpile includes nausea pills, steroids, antacids, blood pressure pills, antibiotics and laxatives.

 

Dope-heads need not come around browsing. I have cleaned house of unused Schedule II drugs. Last week I finally trashed a small brown bottle containing vintage Paregoric dated 1980.  It is doubtful Charlie will ever have baby colic again.

 

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nancyk@alltel.net   web: https://www.angelfire.com/bc/nancykelly