Pharmacy Stickers

Amazing how something as tiny as a germ can reduce a grown man to a quivering, sniffling blob.

I had something before Christmas. It started out as a tickle in my throat, then within 24 hours I was wrapped in my blankie and looking for relief.

At first I just figured it was seasonal allergies. After all, there are things in the air in North Carolina to which my Oklahoma upbringing never exposed me. Instead, it proved to be something that put me out of commission for two solid weeks and left me weak through the holidays.

Anyhow, after moving to my recliner during the night I find myself sifting through the “medicine tray” for something to provide a bit of relief. You can’t help but notice that our collection of bottles from the pharmacy seems to be increasing as we age.

It’s not that we’ve been any less healthy, but I think as the grey hair increases the need for medication does as well. Or maybe it’s that medication causes grey hair. I’m not sure. But something has led to an increase in the need for medication at our house.

When you take “maintenance meds” – something to correct a condition that you’ll likely be on for the rest of your life, rather than something to cure a particular malady – you tend to end up with a collection of bottles for the same medications.

My drug of choice for years has been Prilosec. Not that wimpy stuff they sell over the counter, but the full powered pills that require a prescription to keep one reflux free even after a dinner of red wine and pizza.

They come from the same place every month, a convenient mail order company we’re encouraged to use by our health insurance plan.

The bottles come through the mail, complete with brightly colored warning stickers. What I don’t understand, though, is why the stickers vary from month-to-month.

After all, it’s not like they’ve got any new information. Neither my healthcare provider nor I have sent any new information to them saying, “Hey, watch out, this guy is prone to dizziness.”

Yet of the four bottles in the tray, one has no stickers, two have 1 and one has three.

Before anyone starts to berate me for not taking meds as prescribed, I’d point out that three of the bottles are empty. We don’t save meds, although I do find the bottles useful for storing little parts in the basement; sometimes they don’t move that direction as quickly as they should, though.

There seems to be no consistency whatsoever. I mean, if it was likely to cause drowsiness last time (something which, incidentally, I have yet to experience with Priolsec), wouldn’t you think the same warning would be necessary this time? Or do they figure that I’ve taken it for so long, I’ve already read all the warnings and don’t need them any more? Maybe they’re checking to see if I’m paying attention.

After all, a sticker that said, “Not to be taken by Pregnant Women” would certainly get my attention, despite the fact that it’s completely irrelevant in our house.

I suspect that the stickers on them have something to do with the whims of the pharmacist tech who happens to be putting the labels on the bottle. I imagine her as some bleached blond valley girl who’s going through the list thinking, “A red one would be pretty with a purple one, and then next time we’ll put green with blue.”

In the meantime, I’m not going to worry too much about whether Prilosec now causes drowsiness, or dizziness, or should be taken with or without food. I do good to remember to take the darned thing every day.