Monday, August 6, 2007

This is your brain on drugs.

Today, an example of how not to manage allergies.
Kids, don't try this at home.

I have run out of nasal spray. And I have run out of Claritin. Being whatever the opposite of a Type A personality is, I neither noticed the shortage nor planned any restoration efforts.

Instead, I waited until an emergency was declared and resorted to my last line of defense: Atarax.

I hate taking Atarax. It has some wicked side effects. Since I can never remember its real name, I lovingly refer to my little bottle of poison by my original interpretation of the scrawled hieroglyph on the prescription pad--Anthrax.

So--last night was a desperate enough emergency for me to take Anthrax. I don't know what I was thinking, but I convinced myself the situation was of such proportions as to warrant the full dose--2 tablets of Anthrax.

The thing about this drug is that one of the side effects is drowsiness. But the word "drowsiness" hardly describes what it does to me. In me, this drug induces a Rip Van Winkle like slumber. And there's some memory loss that goes along with it. Well, it's either memory loss or marked increase in my Alzheimer-like symptoms.

At some point in the night I woke up and stumbled around until I managed a glass of water. For the life of me, I couldn't figure out why I was walking sideways and felt so foggy . . .

I attempted a kickboxing class this morning. I had nothing to give. My usually impressive right hook resembled something more along the lines of a gentle right caress, followed by a lean into the bag and what could have been confused for a tender embrace. And I never could decide if my vision was blurry because of the sweat dripping into my eyes or because . . . it was blurry. Today wasn't my best showing.

Later, standing at the kitchen sink I waited an interminable amount of time for the water to get hot. Dammit! Is that water heater acting up again?!? No. It wasn't the water heater. I had the tap turned all the way to cold . . .

In the car, I stopped at a red light. What the hell is with this light? It's taking for. effing. EVER. to change!!! Turns out it was a flashing red light. Flashing reds don't change with much regularity.

I attempted a pharmacy trip to refill the nasal spray. I didn't have the right information with me due to an insurance change. Instead of $10, it was going to cost me $70. So here's a tip: When the sweet little pharmacy clerk tells you your medication is going to cost 7 times what you expected, don't loudly exclaim "Oh, crap!" in the middle of the store. It might be considered rude. And clapping your hand over your mouth in a fit of embarrassment while apologizing to the sweet little pharmacy clerk might make her giggle, but it won't undo the classy display. No matter how hard you wish it would.

I napped a lot today. I got nothing done today. I emerged from my sleeping beauty rest at around 4:30 and realized I hadn't remembered to take anything out of the freezer for dinner. I told the boys I was making a quick run to Albertson's for one of their chicken dinners and assured them I'd be right back. Number One called me at 7 wondering if I was coming home. I'd gotten side tracked . . .

Finally this evening I decided I was done. There was no more damage I could do, so I called it a day. In my bedroom changing clothes, I caught sight in the mirror that I'd been wearing my bra inside out. Great.

I don't care how stuffy and miserable I am, the relief this medication offers just isn't worth it. This drug should be reserved for only the most dire of circumstances. Like to disable enemies. Or maybe to confuse loved ones for the sake of entertainment . . .

5 comments:

Rick said...

Great story! I can't believe you were operating a motor vehicle in that state! I mean it is bad when the ole' bra is inside out. Hope today is better. You don't need beauty sleep! :)

Kuckie said...

That was hilarious, Kristin! Not laughing AT you, but rather, WITH you!! Maybe you should try to neti pot like Logziella! I've heard it works!

And stay away from the Atarax, or Anthrax, or whatever the heck it is!

CheekierMeSly said...

You were clearly still under the influence when scribing this. That's why I'm not going to eSlap you too hard for my pet Peevie!

Storybook Woods said...

Okay Kristin next time I see you driving down the street, I am pulling over to the side of the road till you pass. xoxoxo Clarice

countrymouse said...

Rick and Clarice, I know! It was while I was driving that I finally figured out what the problem was. Oh, and Rick, thank you for the nic compliment, but if I didn't alter the light levels on my photo, you would find that I actually look like this.

Kukie, I don't know what neti pot is--explain, please?

Oh Mistress Cheek--not the ruler across the knuckles again? It was the drugs. It's not a case of me continuing to make that mistake even when I know better. It was the drugs. Really . . .