When my mom and dad celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary in 1997, I joked that it was a fallacy that old people never had anything to do together: every Sunday mom and dad sit at the kitchen table and fill their pill bottles. Now, THAT'S entertainment.
Sometimes in a cruel way, jokes can come back to bite you in the behind.
My lovely dance with DCM has given me the opportunity to spend a piece of my Sunday afternoons filling MY pill box and I feel positively ancient because of it. Everyone knows not to bother me while I am counting the days and placing the proper pills in the morning and evening boxes. I frankly don't know how people with Adult ADD could manage restocking their pill box every week it can be so confusing. It's no wonder older Americans get easily confused: it's because they spend all their mental energy filling their pill boxes every week. And no, I'm not joking. You try putting in tons of medications in boxes every week, certain pills going in a morning box, certain ones going in an evening box and see if it's easy.
Seven pills a day? Who ever heard of such a thing? Medicine is the only thing I take more of than naps these days and frankly it sucks. And let me add one thing here. The word "sucks" was a word we never used to use in our house, but it works so well when you have a heart condition. It sucks to have a heart condition. It sucks to take seven pills a day. It sucks to have your days significantly shortened because you fall asleep during the early evening most every night.
So, for all you medical types out there, let's review the ever-expanding pharmacy I put in my body every day. For the laymen among us, I have provided additional insight into the medications and what they do.
Potassium. One a day. Replaces potassium I supposedly lose every day since I am prohibited from salt. I don't ever remember having potassium on a regular basis but apparently my body will miss it anyway.
Furosomide. I frankly don't know if that's how it's spelled or not. All I know is it is a diuretic, like coffee. Except not like coffee because it doesn't give me vim OR vigor. It only makes you pee. In fact, when the doctor gave it to me, he said it would be necessary for me to limit my fluid intake to the ridiculously low 48 ounces a day so the diuretic could work better. Which really confuses me so much I don't want to know how that works.
Metaprolol, Lisinopril and Lanoxin. One's an ace inhibitor, the others are beta blockers, Beta blockers work wonders. Suffice it to bring up a "Seinfeld" quote. As George Castanza said," "I WAS IN THE POOL!"
The number of prescriptions heart patients have to take is really ridiculous. And let me just point out, I refuse to call them meds or scrips or anything that sounds like I'm some patient on "ER." No, this is real life. For proof of that, just watch me call the automated pharmacy on the phone every couple of Sundays. I am actually on a first-name basis with the computer-generated pharmacist. I no longer have to enter the last four digits of my phone number to verify my existence. The computer now recognizes my under-the-breath mutterings and just patches me right through these days.