It’s a Vast, Med-Wing Conspiracy!!!!

They say the first step in overcoming a problem is admitting you have one.  Much as I hate to admit it, I am now in my mid-forties.  That means that the Second Law of Thermodynamics is starting to exercise its dominance over my body.  For those of you who, like I, managed to escape the clutches of Physics in high school and college, the 2nd Law says that matter is in a constant state of decomposition, unless energy is expended in maintaining the status quo. 

In my case, the energy I expend to maintain the status quo comes in the form of a seemingly-increasing amount of supplements and medications designed to keep me from feeling my age.  I take a litany of concoctions ranging in size from “did I swallow it or drop it in the sink–I can’t tell!” to “my God, is that a people pill or a horse suppository?!?”  Their design (other than to induce weight-loss in my wallet) ranges from lowering my cholesterol to preventing heartburn (hmmm–if I just quit eating, I could drop both of those…) to getting my knees to halfway function without numbing pain.

Once a week, I take out my two pill boxes (one for the mornings, one for the evenings–not that I don’t even mix THAT up once in a while!), and fill them for the next week.  Most of the tablets I take come in nice bulk bottles–I pour out what I need, file them by day of the week and time of day, then put the rest away until next week.  No big deal.

The cussin’, wailing and gnashing of teeth come, however, when I have to deal with those *^&*&(%^%$$@ blister packs!  One of my meds only comes in a blister pack, and another one comes both ways, but I needed a refill when I was sick and (bless his heart, I know he was doing me a favor) Daddy brought me the med in blister pack form.  The one that I have no choice on, that is one of the larger pills and I can usually cut it out of the pack without too much hassle.  The ones Daddy brought me, though, are of the near-microscopic variety, and getting them out without losing one’s sanity is nigh unto impossible!

It was while struggling with that infinitesimal blister pack that I realized something–there is a vast, med-wing conspiracy going on!  We are the victims of the pharmaceutical companies’ evil scheme to manipulate the market for Prozac, Xanax, and other anxiety-reducing drugs!  Those stinkin’ drug companies pack their itty-bitty pills with great big prices in these nano-sized, hermetically-sealed packs in order to drive us clinically insane in the effort to get the damn things open!!!! 

By the time we do get them open, we’ve crushed the pill, our confidence in surviving another day with our sanity intact, and our determination to stay away from fatty, deep-fried foods!  This means shelling out more money to replace the destroyed medication, to purchase the super-sized fries that go with the bacon cheeseburger to comfort our destroyed egos, and to obtain new medication to keep our minds from falling apart and our bodies from absorbing all that comfort-food fat that will clog our arteries while soothing our souls.

I’m on to you, Phizer, Merck, Bayer, GlaxoSmithKline–you and your little cohorts/competitors, too!  I’ve caught you in the act!  I’ll tell you right now, it won’t work!  I’ll tell my friends about you and they’ll tell…who’s banging on the door so hard?  What’s with the battering ram?  Who are you and why are you all wearing white coats?  Leggo me–I know my 4th Amendment rights!  You can’t force my mouth open!  What’s that pill you’re putting in the tube?  You can’t [gag…ack…kaff!]

*It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood…won’t you be my neighbor?*  Today, boys and girls, we’ll visit Mr. Pharmaceutical Maker.  He’s our friend and deserves all the financial support we can give him….