Granted, the day didn't get off to a fine start. My "95% complete" root canal had been filled with miracle gunk to make the bacterial infection dwelling beneath the tooth take a hike. Well, the bacteria was more long lasting than the gunk. I grabbed the prescription the oral surgeon wrote me 10 days ago and stared at it hesitantly. He'd written it as a "precautionary" measure. But he'd grinned when he handed it over, saying, "Here you go. This stuff really works. But don't fill it unless you REALLY need it. It'll tear up your intestinal track."
Yesterday the side of my head with the non-compliant tooth began to throb. Jawbone ached. Ear began to join in the ache party. Obviously the time had come to fill the dreaded prescription. Sigh.
I glared at the innocuous piece of paper last night, the medical gibberish now printed by a computer rather than scrawled like a chicken scratching in the dirt. That meant I could actually read the name of the drug. I looked it up. The list of side effects wasn't just alarming, it was appalling. I'm on vacation. I don't want to spend it in the bathroom. And that was just for starters, as this miracle drug promised to lend you those side effects for WEEKS after you'd taken it. I took an Advil and went to bed.
I awoke this morning with a head less pounding but still filled with concrete...that would be my sinuses chiming in their displeasure with the pollen and cooler temperatures. I got ready for work, glancing at the paper offering a dispicable cure as my stomach churned. If it could make my stomach do that before I even got it filled, maybe this wasn't such a bright idea. I looked at it once more and then my brain whispered...
"Hey....wait a minute. We took that stuff once, 10 years ago. Got all the side effects plus a couple not even listed. Pain's not so bad, is it?"
I trudged down the steps, head hung low. Great, no miracle drug to cure my aching jaw and now a flu shot to look forward to as well. Hubby asked why the long face. After listening to me sigh like someone walking towards the death chamber he said with a smile, "Why don't you just call his office, tell them you can't take it and ask for something else?"
Why is it men see simple solutions when women only see, "Gee, I don't want to be a bother."?
So I called the oral surgeon's office on my way to work. The receptionist listened sympathetically, including the part where I was suppose to be on vacation but was on my way to work for a couple of hours so my folks wouldn't catch the flu. She kindly put me on hold. My phone made hold permanent. Looking down, I realized the battery had gone dead. Sitting on the side of the road I blindly thrust my hand into the glove compartment and came up with the phone cord that goes into what years ago would've been the cigarette lighter. Cars don't come with those any more. Now they're listed as something more healthy, like "USB Mobile Phone access plug" or the like. I was soon back in service, apologizing to the receptionist who laughed sympathetically, then asked which pharmacy I'd like her to call with a new, non colon cleansing prescription.
Wow. Simple as that. This being a girl stuff is for the birds.
So long story short, the seniors are protected from the flu, I'm protected from intestinal hell and the nurse promised to come back and shoot me later....you can't have a flu shot if you're on antibiotics.
And now maybe, with half a first dose in me [oh that's another story...can't take more than 1 of anything medicinal at a time] I can get on to playing. Yeah, I know. Research isn't play. But it is if you get to pick the topic.
I'm off now to find a decent map of Ireland and Scotland so I can see where the more adventurous relatives of mine began their journey towards America. Okay, so first I'm going to make a small pitstop at a couple of blogs in Ireland and Scotland. I'm on vacation you know. I don't have to follow a schedule...now that the shots are done.