I don’t know what I’d do without the internet. Especially as I’m cleaning out my medicine cabinet, which I’ve been planning on doing for a while now. Exactly how long “a while” is may be up for debate, but let’s not dwell on that. Let’s focus on the here and now. And since I have a tendency toward hoarding — not that I’m an actual hoarder — I think I’m doing GREAT cleaning out our medicine cabinet in early January 2024. Afterward, I can check that stubborn and several-years’ ongoing goal off my list and feel AWESOME AND POWERFUL.
Okay, maybe powerful is a tad too much. AWESOME is spot on, though.
So how did things get to be so … much? Too much?
First of all, I’d like to say that I haven’t always been the best about taking meds in the past, which can potentially lead to a couple of different problems. Because —
- Meds tend to pile up quickly when you don’t take them like you should but the out-of-town pharmacy you’re using keeps sending more and more AND MORE;
- And by not taking the meds you’re supposed to take, this can lead to potentially painful consequences down the road — which is now the road I travel.
Now I’m not saying 100 percent for sure that my not taking the metformin the doctor prescribed when I was only pre-diabetic is the reason I ended up with full-blown diabetes, BUT … there’s an argument that can be made that in this case, the doctor probably knew more than I did. Okay. There’s no probably about it. I was an idiot. And the doctor probably also knew that, too. Too bad they don’t have meds to stop one from being an idiot! But even if they did, would I have actually taken them?
I think we know the answer to that.
Anyway, several years and several different doctors later — well, the good news is that we live during a time when they have meds for at least what ails me, thus far. At least from a physical standpoint. And I’ve grown as a person (matured if you will) away from the stubborn attitude I once held that I was young, healthy and didn’t need to listen to doctors!
So, if I had a chance to go back a few years knowing now what I ignored then … maybe I would have done things differently. Because now I’m having to take a bunch of other meds along with the metformin. I mean I don’t have to take them I suppose. Except, I’d like to stay alive. Yeah — it’s like that.
What I’ve recently noticed, though, is that the place where I store our meds has become overcrowded and unorganized. Untidy even. It’s gotten to the point where I have no place to store the meds I currently use. At least not in the cabinet. Instead, I’ve been storing them in a plastic bag and leaving them on the counter.
But today, I looked around at this sad mess and realized just how far my standards have fallen. I thusly screamed to the empty air — “I AM! I SAID. TO NO ONE THERE. AND NO ONE HEARD AT ALL. (Well, maybe, the chair.)”
No. I didn’t say that. Or sing it. Neil Diamond just popped into my head as I was writing this.
What I really said is, “NO MORE! My standards will rise again like a phoenix rises from its ashes.” And does it really matter whether or not I raised my fist in the air as I said this? What can I say. I was feeling a bit dramatic at the time and no one was around to make fun of me.
So, I decided to undertake cleaning and organizing that one small-ish area of our lives.
And this is where the internet comes in.
We have meds in our cabinet that are not only decades past their discard dates, but I have no idea what most are even for. Worse, I don’t know most of the doctors who prescribed them. The most important part of this endeavor, of course, is doing online research to determine if any of these outdated meds with their weird names aka generic brands are in actuality, “the good shit.”
Okay, just saying — and hell, I don’t even know if this is true — and I certainly don’t condone anyone else doing this; and just in case I didn’t make it clear earlier in this post, sometimes I’m an idiot. So don’t be an idiot like me! I’m just repeating what my friend who is/was a nurse (we’ve lost touch over the years so I’m not sure if she’s even still alive) said to me that one day when she kind of said in a whisper, “Certain meds don’t go bad. Like Vicodin. You can keep them forever. So don’t tell anyone I told you this, but never throw them out.”
Therefore, with certain meds, (okay, up until now, all of my meds), I’ve just kept them.
Also, if anyone asks (like my nurse friend if she’s still alive), you didn’t hear any of that from me.
But it’s these “certain meds,” these hardcore pain relievers, I consider “the good shit.”
And it’s not like I use hardcore pain meds on a daily, weekly or even a monthly basis. But over the years, there has been a time or few that hydrocodone came to my rescue when I couldn’t alleviate intense pain any other way and heading to the ER was not a really good option.
Who has the money to go to the ER anymore unless you’re actually dying?
And when I say hydrocodone, whenever I’ve taken it, it was only half of one. Because I’m a lightweight, y’all. I don’t even think doctors prescribe that anymore.
Well, they probably do; but with the crackdown on all opioids, I think doctors now do everything in their power NOT to prescribe “the good shit.” Because they, too, were once idiots, and now, they, too, have grown from past mistakes. I hope.
Besides, Big Brother is watching. Always watching. And that’s probably a good thing in this instance. Also, it makes my bottle/s of leftover hydrocodone that I may come across (fingers crossed) even more valuable to me; which means I’ll only take one if I REALLY, REALLY, REALLY, REALLY NEED IT! AND I’M STINGY AS HELL! AND PARANOID. AND I ONLY TAKE HALF. Did I mention that before?
Not that I’ve actually found any of “the good shit.” 😥
So if you’re a hardcore drug addict coming to my house to steal my stash, boy are you going to be sorely disappointed. Please just do both of us a favor and don’t. I’m sure there are other people who have the “good shit!” It’s just not me. Not that you should be going into anyone’s home to steal their meds. Or anything else.
JUST SAY NO!
Because if you’re going into other people’s homes to steal their drugs, that’s a sure sign that you need professional help. Ask Matthew Perry! Oh wait … you can’t.
And having written all of that — all I can say is that I love my daughter! It was about this time last year when she was miserable, desperate and crying actual tears because she was in such excruciating pain. So, I gave her the very last one of my hydrocodone pills that was prescribed sometime in the 1990’s. This was so she could get through the long wait at the ER. Trust me, it only took some of the edge off. So, yeah. We do what we can for our loved ones, even when it hurts to let the last of “the good shit” go.
And my daughter turned out just fine once she passed those kidney stones.
So, now I’m left going through very old meds trying to figure out what to get rid of and which will remain stockpiled away as “my precious-es.” Well, at least that was the hope. But since there’s none of “the good shit” to be found, turns out that was just false hope. Damn.
Also, don’t worry. It’s not like I’m going to sell what I’m getting rid of — even if I could make a tidy sum — just so I can buy that leather key chain I saw online at The Row, which is the Olsen Twins’ (Full House) clothing venture, whose website scrawled across my FaceBook feed Saturday morning.
Okay, I’ve got to share this with you:
Their site claims that The Row focuses on the exceptional, the impeccable and precision (which kind of makes it seem like they’re actually selling vehicles.) Then there were these words in their site’s description— “timeless perspective with subtle attitudes which form an irreverent classic signature … explore the strength of simplistic shapes that speak to discretion…”
What the hell does any of that mean?!
Dollar signs and pretentiousness, my friends. And while they may be selling “quality,” I’m going to suggest that what they really are is “overpriced.” Because of course I want to buy a hat in virgin wool and cotton for $990, especially since it makes me think of a certain emoji!
Also, I’m not sure, but I don’t think they know what irreverent means. Which is why I Googled it to see if maybe it could mean something other than what I think of when I use this word. Anyway, Google’s definition is, ”
Uhm … that’s what they want their products to say to their customers?
Sure. Why the hell not! I mean if selling your customers what is ostensibly a poop hat for $990 isn’t irreverent, then I don’t know what is!
Anyway, I thought maybe they might have something on sale that’s more in line with my budget. And there it was, a keychain in leather that was marked down from $499 to the bargain basement price of only $345. So, my thought is — if I sold this large bag of outdated meds, maybe I could score a key ring from The Row.
I’m going to flush these old meds down the toilet.
NO I’M NOT. I WAS KIDDING AGAIN!
Neither am I giving my old meds away to the homeless nor am I putting them in the trash. Because, you know, that’s bad for everyone. Instead, I’m going to do the responsible thing (since I’m learning to be more responsible these days), and I’m taking them to a drug disposal facility nearby and letting them sell them, throw them in the trash or pollute our water supply. I mean once I’ve dropped them off, I’ve done all I can do. After that, my hands are clean.
And then I’m coming home and basking in the glory of newfound cabinet space and a re-organization of our meds. Damien Hirst, (he’s the artist that actually sold a medicine cabinet as fine art) eat your heart out!