REPORT FROM PILLVILLE: The Pacemaker, the Flu Shot, and of course the Pills

lest I go insane...again

Things got crazy with the pillbox while my mom was sick last week. She got confused, and I had to unravel it all. It didn't help that one of the pills looked completely different from the way it used to due to the fact that we recently got a generic or some similar version from a new manufacturer. Also there are three round white pills--two of which are scarily similar, their distinctive markings visible only to super hero marksmen with bionic eyes. Hello, pharmaceutical industry? Colors are good. Think lollipops, jelly beans, sodas, popsicles! Haven't we been conditioned our whole lives to distinguish flavors of junk food by the color? Well, it could work with pills, too. I might even go so far as to make the color of the pill relate to its function. Years ago a doctor told my mother that Plavix would keep her platelets from sticking together. She still remembers it. How about making it red? And why not put a giant P on it in a contrasting color? Seems like the company making Loperamide (that's the yucky brown and yellowish-brown capsule) is kinda on board with that. 'Nuff said.

The pacemaker checked out fine this morning. Another couple years, the tech said. I'm thinking of a betting pool. We all throw in 50 bucks and wager on month and year that the thing quits. When it does go kaput, she'll have to have outpatient surgery to get a new one. Now that is an example of thinking waaaay too far ahead. Hereandnowhereandnowhereandnow. Okay. 

My mom got her flu shot at CVS after the pacemaker check, and we combed the store in a mad shopping spree with her 20% off coupon. Marketing genius. She got some pink lipstick called "Fruit Punch" and it looks great on her. We stocked up on Ricola lemon sugar free lozenges, which I admit to having a bit of a hoarding problem with. My mom bought a bunch of those tiny toothbrushes for between the teeth. I'm pretty sure she's hoarding those. And I threw in a bag of Peanut M &Ms-- an example of completely gratuitous but somewhat entertaining junk food color. I just might get myself a pillbox and keep it filled with those.

It's a beautiful day here in Margaritaville. Wind+sun equals lots of shimmering color.

Report from Pillville: the Pacemaker

"I need a pacebreaker," the man who loves me exclaimed some time ago. We were, no doubt, discussing our mortality or some related profoundly romantic topic.

My mother, on the other hand, has a pacemaker. Now that she lives with me, it's partially my responsibility to maintain her pacemaker, so off we went today to the cardiologist's office for a test with the guy from Medtronic. After offering my mom a seat and introducing himself, he proceeded to attach a box-like monitor to her chest. A few moments of studying a computer screen ensued, and then he proclaimed that the pacemaker was working just fine. And that it was only "pacing" at 1%. Which kinda makes me wonder why she needs a pacemaker. In any event, the thing is good for at least another four years. My mom will be 92 if she's still on the planet four years from now. Her pacemaker will be out of juice, and she will require surgery to implant a new one. I really don't have the energy or the desire to think very far ahead these days, but if I did, I might lose a little sleep over this one. Isn't there some way to just plug her into a charger?

It's young people who design these things, no doubt. Surgery? Sure! Then let's go out and party.

In any event, getting a pacemaker implanted is probably less tiring than getting a flu shot--or so it seemed today at the local CVS. Here's a clipboard. Stand here and fill out all these forms. Stand here some more, while I punch a jillion keys on my computer and wonder why something is not working.
I asked if there was somewhere my mom might sit down. Yes, of course,  there was an area with chairs--halfway across the store. And yes, bring the forms back to the counter. And yes, walk back over to where the chairs are to get the shot. The woman walks with a cane (and a lovely new English chestnut cane it is) for fuck sake. Slowly. And I doubt that she's the only senior to come in for a flu shot. Move the chairs, people. Make it easy. Is your mother in our system, the white coat finally asked me after several more minutes of tapping away at her keyboard after my mom had hiked over to the chairs. Does she get her prescriptions filled here? No, I said, but she buys her gin here.

And yes, that was why we chose CVS for a flu shot. 20% off on your next purchase!!! Well, that didn't go smoothly either, but in the end, thanks to a couple of diligent employees working the check stand, the saga ended happily. And we got an second 20% off coupon for the next gin run.

I arrived home feeling like I'd consider having a pacebreaker installed, but the smell of gin always cheers me up.