Side effects . . .

In recent years, we have been introduced to the commercials for new drugs that basically say – “Here’s a new drug! Try it!” and then there’s 45 more seconds of the side effects that are absurdly hilarious.
Example: Here’s a pill for curing hair loss, but growing hair will cost you in the form of vomiting, diarrhea, arthritis in your right knee, hangnails, fatty cists, and incurable acne. . . but at least you’ll have hair.
They have made the visual part of the commercial so distracting that they hope you won’t listen to the side effects. Cartoon characters, fancy origami paper people, adorable pets, all showing you how fun life will be if you just take this new pill! And have you noticed how the same drug seems to be able to do multiple things? It’s like ‘Lord of the Pills’ . . . one ring pill controls them all!
Lately I’ve noticed some changes that just kill me! (There’s a pill for that.) I’ve heard the line “tell your doctor if you’ve had a liver transplant”, really? Your doctor is unaware of something that major? Or “Do not take this drug if you’re allergic to it” – okay – and I know that, how???.
This drug could cause a fatal heart attack, even if you’ve never had a fatal heart attack in the past. . . ah, yes, I don’t want to go through that again!
Now, I love drugs as much as the next person, although I don’t know who the next person is, but I don’t like to take them.
I’ll be in pain and Dane will ask, “Did you take something?”
“Well, no, but maybe when I go to bed.”
Drugs make me paranoid. If I take something, I’ll leave the container out so Dane can tell the paramedics what killed me.
Fortunately, I’ve been extremely healthy all my life with no aches or pains – not even headaches, from which so many suffer. But now that I’m in my 7th decade – ahem – (I finished my 6th decade over 3 years ago), I am more susceptible to aches from overdoing and injury.
Any of you who have ever had Sciatica can relate to my introduction to it about 3 weeks ago. Oh, my! There was no comfortable position and no drug strong enough to kill the pain. Sleeping doesn’t happen and I worked in Zombie mode everyday. And just when I felt it was gone/healed, I got called into work on my day off because my sub’s Jeep broke down and I reinjured it transferring his very heavy trays into my Jeep.
Pain, pain, go away!
And should I live as long as my mom, I’ll have 30 more years of this???? (She’s 94 this coming Monday!)
Lord help me . . . and, He does!