Taking medication is a sort of daily religious ritual, only with less billowing incense and a lot more enteric-coated communion wafer thingies. Fortunately, there is also no falsetto choir, unless, of course, you have taken the wrong pill at the wrong time of day. Regular observance of a medication regimen is certainly an act that requires a great deal of faith in the covenants and testaments of others: this doctor preaching Christian Crestor from his pulpit at the clinic; that doctor calling the afflicted to Islamic Zocor from a hospital minaret; another doctor is on a Hindu pilgrimage to the promised land of Questran; there are even some unorthodox, holistic healers who swear by herbal extracts and drinking fish oil on the Sabbath; and when Carl Sagan famously remarked that human beings are made of "star stuff," I imagine he had merely become confused by AstraZeneca's therapeutic products.
But there is no real evidence that any of these medication creeds actually work, in mysterious ways or otherwise, other than the biological wonders that their proselytizing doctors claim for them. Alas, there is no pharmacological equivalent of Pascal's philosophical wager, since the extremely provable existence of side-effects means that patients have a lot to lose if their prescription pill-God turns out to be naught but a hollow idol.
Side-effects come in all shapes and sizes and degrees of severity: bloating, swelling, liver disease and hives, for example; not to mention our old friends nausea and vomiting. Victims are advised to consult their doctors, somewhat counter-intuitively, since it was this drug-pushing know-it-all who originally prescribed the bile producing poison, and will undoubtedly suggest yet another innocuous-looking pill to address the negative symptoms of the first. I don't know what the medical term from such treatment is, but in alcoholic circles I believe it's called "the hair of the dog."
Thankfully, the only medication side-effect I've experienced so far is a creeping, shapeless sense of dread that I'm going to experience side-effects from taking medication: a chronic condition for which medication is unsurprisingly available. And so it becomes a vicious circle; a queasy carousel from which you can't escape once it's started going round. We must just hang on for dear life, literally, hoping and praying that the mechanism won't terminally malfunction. Frankly, it makes me feel dizzy and lightheaded just thinking about it.

O.K. how did you know what happened to me?!
Was in an accident,got a bruised heart, broken clavicle, torn ribs. Docs wouldn't do x-rays or mri. Instead when heart wigged out, they said I had a heart condition. Put me on three different heart meds, this caused blackouts and kicked up seizures, so they said I had a seizure disorder, three types of seizure meds followed. By this time I was having all kinds of crazy symptoms. Couldn't sleep so next came the sleeping pills, anxiety pills, pills to combat the nausia. In short they nearly pilled me into the cemetery. I have been free of doctors and their pills for 15 years. End result I will be histamine reactive for the rest of my life. A simple whiff of the wrong perfume, a cigarette, a food ingredient, and yours truly is left trying to suck air through a fast closing windpipe.You should see me when I travel. I have to carry a respirator mask, just to get through the airport and plane ride. Always praying of course security doesn't think I'm a terrorist.
Posted by: Giric | November 16, 2011 at 13:19
I'm sure security doesn't - but you never know with the over-zealous types these days
Posted by: american fez | November 17, 2011 at 09:08
Well it does get interesting explaining to each new flight crew what the silly mask is for. I react to the bathroom chemicals, so that after an hour or two into the flight, when everyone uses the loo and they've recirculated the fumes to the entire plane, I get to look like an exterminator.
I found this out while on a flight to Hawaii. You wouldn't believe the crew on Hawaiian Air. When I had to use the loo they closed off the entire back end of the plane, closed the back bathrooms to other passengers, aired out one bathroom, removed all the chemicals they could, and stood guard in case I passed out. On the return flight would you believe I got the same crew?! They remembered me and had even written a report to the head of the airline. I had found a mask while on the Big Island and they were delighted and wanted to know where to get some to put on the plane in case some other passengers had the same problem.
Fortunately I am not without recourse, I take magnesium powder, it gives immediate relief. It comes in little individual packets and looks much like cocaine, hope no one thinks I'm a drug smuggler. Snort that stuff up your nose and it will give a whole new meaning to the phrase, "feel the burn."
Posted by: Giric | November 17, 2011 at 12:08
Having said all this, life is a delight!!! My daughter came back from her doctor last evening with the first scanned image of our second grandchild. Her first is a live wire, so it will be interesting to see what the second is like.
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