One pill makes you larger, and one pill makes you small
And the ones that mother gives you, don’t do anything at all;
Go ask Alice, when she’s ten feet tall. — “White Rabbit” Jefferson Airplane (c) 1967 Icebag Music Corp
This papa’s got a whole big brand new bag of pills to take. Not many are the happy-fun kind. Most are the you’re-getting-old kind. I was waiting for some prescriptions to be filled and knew that they had one already waiting for me. I asked the pharm tech if I could have the literature on the one that was filled. What kills wait time in the pharmacy better than reading up on the new old-guy pills you have to take?
If you hadn’t heard, I got a touch of the pancreatitis. As with any digestive disorder you may experience symptoms like bloating, gas, constipation or diarrhea. As I peruse the pharmacological literature of the enzyme replacement I’ll be taking for a while, I note the side effects may include “bloating, gas, constipation or diarrhea.”
Now I’m completely confused. I asked young pharm tech, Shelly, “How will I know if the disease is getting worse or the pills are working if the symptoms and the side effects are the same?” I fear I’ve put poor Shelly through too much during her few months on the job. I’ve never seen anyone stare in disbelief and start laughing simultaneously, but she did it. No easy feat.
It says in the prescription information, “Call your doctor if you experience any of these side effects.” Now I’m in a real pickle. Previously when I farted, I just blamed it on the dog and lit a match. Now every time I fart, I have to call my doctor to report the medication’s side effects.
My wife reminded me that according to an Oprah show she saw (so you know I’ve got my facts straight), the average person farts 14 times per day. So of course I panicked at number 15 which came by 9:30am. The doctor’s office stopped taking my calls after 27 the first day.
My doctor’s not talking to me. My dog won’t play with me. The whole Dutch Oven game was short lived and I’m sleeping on the couch. The only good news is, they moved me to a private office at work. Not a after a promotion, but after a protest lodged by my cube mates. What a fellow to do?