Every time I see a new doctor, I hear the same thing: \”You\’re too young to be this sick.\” Every time I go to a new pharmacy, I face the same situation: long lines in which customers 24-28 are filled before my 23 is, because I have three very odd prescriptions. Questions: \”Why did you cut off all your hair?\” \”Why are you limping?\” \”Why are you in a wheelchair?\” \”What are all those pills for?\”
I\’ve known people with HIV-AIDS. They take a large cocktail. Then there is my grandmother, who is eighty, has emphesema, osteoperosis, osteoarthrtitis, heart disease, and a few other things. She also takes a cocktail.
I do not have HIV, and other than osteoarthritis, I do not have any of those other serious illnesses. And yet, I have a cocktail. On a good week, below is what I take (picture taken mid-day Tuesday). The picture does not include the series of oral and topical painkillers, muscle relaxants and inhalors that are used when I am not having a good week.
I am not looking forward to getting this through airport security.
I\’m back to popping pills every four hours, except this time it is by my doctor\’s orders. Jesus Christ. Youth truly is wasted on the youth. And I\’m 22.