April 26, 2005

• PILLS

  Yesterday
  I finished making up a new batch of “meds”.  These packs of pills
  include prescription meds for asthma, one aspirin a day to prevent
  stroke and heart attack, a full range of vitamins and minerals, mega
  doses of cognitive enhancers, a bunch of supplements that support my
  immune system and combat my chronic fatigue, and, in the dish with the
  yellow bottle top, the glutamine and tyrosine (amino acids) to help me
  balance my catecholamine deficiency.  The picture here shows one
  day’s supply.

  Already today I have taken two packs of pills:  one with a red cap
  (early morning empty stomach) and one with a white cap (morning with
  food).  I don’t like taking pills.  Just looking at that
  picture makes me queasy and I start to salivate the way I do before I
  vomit.  I’m not going to throw up.  I just keep swallowing
  the saliva and after I’ve written enough copy to carry my cursor down
  far enough that the pills are out of sight above the xTools box, the
  nausea will go away.  I don’t puke when I take the pills either,
  at least not lately.  I’ve learned that they taste worse and hurt
  more coming up than they do going down.  I’ve gotten really good
  in this lifetime at suppressing my gag reflex.  One more skill to
  add to my resume.

  The new batch I made up over the course of the last three days (too ill
  and weak to do it all at one go) will last me one month.  Well,
  let’s be honest here.  I made up thirty sets of daily meds.  **aah, the pic just went away; in a moment the queasiness should pass** 
  They will undoubtedly last me more than a month.  I have never
  gotten through an entire month without missing a few doses along the
  way.  When I’m nearing the end of a batch, I count what’s left so
  I can take more of those of which I have the most leftovers and skip an
  occasional dose of the ones I have the least of.

  Weeks ago, probably months ago, my previous batch of meds were almost
  used up.  I had less than a week’s supply left when I started
  “forgetting” to take them altogether for several days at a time. 
  That’s a common pattern for me.  I hate taking pills.  Did I
  mention that?  Each time I make a new batch of packs, I take my
  meds on schedule like a good little girl until I start feeling better
  and then I conveniently “forget” that it was the pills that made me
  feel so well, and I start missing doses or stop taking them
  altogether.  That final week’s supply of the latest month’s worth
  of meds lasted me at least a couple of months.

  At some point in my most recent flare-up, I realized I needed to start
  taking my meds again — not just the prescription stuff that I must
  take to keep breathing, but the whole mess of pills that keep my body
  functioning at a level that never comes up to human norms but can
  definitely be better than I do without the supplements.  This is
  the way my pattern goes.  When the symptoms get scary enough, they
  scare me back into taking my pills.  As is often the case, this
  time I’d let it go so long that It was a struggle to get the new packs
  made up.  I had to find 120 empty bottles and enough lids in each
  of the four different colors to cap them all.  I had to get out my
  pages of notes on what to take, the dosages, and whether they go with
  food or on an empty stomach.  Then I had to go through the supply
  of meds, make sure everything I needed was there and set things up for
  the big fill-up. 

  Finally, I had to screw down all the lids and find a place to put the
  fourth set of color-coded bottles because the last batch only had three
  doses a day.  I had been taking all my “with food” pills after
  breakfast and it was too much, too hard on my stomach, one of the
  excuses I’d give myself for skipping my meds.  I have to set
  things up, you see, to make it as hard as possible for me to makes
  excuses to myself.  I don’t have to make excuses to anyone else,
  y’know — fuck ‘em if they don’t like what I do.

  Still, four times a day is better than six.  When I first started
  trying to kick the sugar jones, back in the 1970s, I took pills six
  times a day, took even more in each batch than I do now, and got less
  benefit from them than I do now.  Two and a half years ago, when I
  started taking the amino acids that let me finally kick the sugar, I
  was deficient in more neurotransmitters than just the catecholamine and
  had to take even more pills than I do now.  All in all, it’s
  getting better.  The more I learn, the better I get at selecting
  the supplements I need, and of course there are things available now
  that weren’t on the market 30 years ago.  Now, if I’d just get
  better at settling into a routine of taking them every day and not let
  myself get so sick before I get scared back into taking my
  pills….  Yeah, right.

  It is discouraging, being so smart and acting so stupid.  This
  self-castigation is another phase of that cycle I’ve been through more
  times than I can recall.  When things start working better and I
  begin to feel well enough to tell myself I was stupid to stop taking
  the pills, it’s early enough in the pill-popping routine and the recent
  malaise is fresh enough in my memory that I tell myself I’ll not lapse
  again.  I’ve done it so many times already that just now my self
  shot back at me, “Oh, yes you will!”  And I probably will.  I
  hate taking pills.  I have to be sick to be motivated to take
  them, or at least so close to sick that I remember how bad it
  felt. 

  I wanna be well, want to coast along feeling fine, not having to
  remember when my last meal was so I don’t wait too long to take the
  with-food pills or take the empty-stomach ones too soon.  Maybe if
  the improvement I get from the pills was greater, I’d be more motivated
  to take them.  If I could run, climb mountains, learn new skills
  and languages as fast as I did as a kid, etc., maybe then I’d remember
  to take my pills all the time.  It’s a big investment in time,
  money and bother, taking those pills.  The benefits are noticeable
  but not spectacular, not enough for the total satisfaction of this
  pathological perfectionist.  When I hit the next peak, when I’m
  feeling as fine as I get, I’ll probably take another pill vacation,
  too.  I’d lay money on that, based both on my prior performance
  and on how good it feels not taking pills all day every day.  I
  just hope that the next time I will get it together to start making up
  the next batch before I get so sick I need them as bad as I did this
  time.
  

  • 5:28 pm
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