Now that I have your attention, I’ll tell you the real story of Mary Weaver, Pill Pusher. A few months ago, I announced that I was no long confident in my ability to keep track of the multiple medicines, prescribed, withdrawn, modified ad infinitum. Somewhere on the way to earning her Doctor of Jurisprudence degree, she seems to have picked up skills that included the EXCEL spreadsheet, and this seemed to be the time to use the skill. Here is a day in the life.
At 6:00 in the early morning, the charming voice of Alexa announces, “It’s time for Walter’s medicine.” A “directed” capsule of wondrous beauty, Mary uses gloves to put it in the little cup which I toss on my tongue with care along with a full glass of water. Alexa has no idea that is only the beginning. After the rude awakening, I am directed to a small distribution of one and a half white ovals, one small round and a round yellow capsule with a vitamin or something.
Breakfast comes soon and it’s safe for the five tiny powerful STEROIDS which must be taken with food. As I notice my newly bulging biceps, my big decision is whether to become a football lineman or attempt to beat the Babe Ruth batting record.
With hours before my next pills, I took the time to deflate my bicep with a needle in my right arm for Moderna’s latest and best in novel Covid care.
It seems like forever before Alexa announces Walters 4PM medicine, one modest round pill with no water requirements. Soon, however it’s 6 PM and Alexa advises a repeat of the 6 AM drill, this time the large glass of water threating an extra night trip. You know.
Now I must personally remember to take the evening doses of one little red, on-half tiny green, a white with rounded ends and, once again one and a half ovals to match the morning dose.
Once a week I hear the cutter preparing pills the pharmaceutical companies seem not to be able to modify and see Mary enter her efforts into EXCEL for another proof that she has at least tried to keep me properly dosed. It works almost every day.
Since I am nearing ninety, I’m practicing the new appellation of nonagenarian (spell check helped me), But until then with Mary’s help I’ll continue to be an Octogenarian on Steroids.