Not to be a Pill, but...

          Well, it had to happen. When you’re taking 30-plus pills and vitamins every day

and they are divvied up into daily reminder boxes—one for morning and one for night—

          the day will come when you grab the wrong handful.

          And, unfortunately, I have no history of bulimia so I have no clue how to make myself throw up to undo this mistake.

Now, this might not be a problem at all, except that three of the ones I take at night make me drowsy.

One is an antihistamine that, in a surprise to all medical personnel, helps prevent bone pain from chemo.  Another is a hot-flash preventer that has the weird side effect of inducing drowsiness.  And the other is an anti-nausea medicine that can knock you on your sleepy little butt if you don’t cut it in half. At least that’s why I cut them in half.

I stared at the now-empty nighttime compartment of the pill organizer and realized what my day would be like: Night. 

First, I decided not to telephone anyone in what will sound like a drunken stupor.

          Second, I canceled a doctor appointment because there’s no way I should drive today, and

          Third, I crossed off “gardening” from my to-do list because I do not need to be found face-down in a bed of zinnias.

          I figured the only safe activity would be sitting at the computer, and as luck would have it, I decided to research forgetfulness.

          Shazam, Eureka, and Woo-hoo all rolled into one, I found an article that claims forgetfulness means you’re a genius. 

          So I shall sit here and contemplate what it’s like to be such a smarty-pants that I took all the wrong pills.  I’ll bet Einstein did that all the time (notice he does look a little sleepy).

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