Back in April, when I began seeking medical council for what ails me, I mentioned the insomnia, I mentioned my intolerance to even the mild agent of Tylenol PM and Benadryl, I mentioned the feelings of non-lucidity the next morning. My physician’s assistant prescribed a supposed sleep aid that should wear off in mere hours, inhibiting the start of my day not.
I wasted time wandering down the aisles at Walgreen’s while my prescriptions were filled, and when finally the pharmacist called my number, I listened patiently while she explained the side effects and dosage. When she came to my sleeping pill, she said only, “This should really help with the itching.”
“Uh…” I grunted. “I don’t itch. I think that was supposed to help me sleep?” Sure enough, drowsiness was a side effect. It should come as little surprise that this pill doesn’t work overly well for me…wears off too quickly. I’m hard to please.
The morning that we ran Crazy Legs, I realized with great anguish that I did not have any Claritin handy…easy breathing being somewhat nice during a run scheduled during the height of my allergy suffering. I asked Nick if he had any allergy medication on hand. “Just some itch stuff I was prescribed last year,” he negated.
“Heck, I have itch stuff…tiny little green pills.” Nick’s eyebrows vee’d and he retrieved his bottle of leftover drugs. We had the same prescription, and warmth spread as we realized something else we would be able to share: medicating. He keeps his bottle on the night stand, I keep mine in my purse. The drugs are always accessible.
We hiked through Wyalusing State Park last Saturday, with the breathtaking views of the Wisconsin and Mississippi Rivers, and it was quickly obvious that our low-strength strain of bug spray would not do, and to play it down a bit, we were nearly eaten alive by hungry mosquitoes. Damp woods, shadowy trails…who saw that one coming? Seriously!
So, since we sucked at prevention—and Nick swore he would never hike without deet-inspired spray again…deet, the word I challenged Nick on during an ill-fated game of Scrabble and was quickly proved wrong (a happening that does little for my ego)—we partook of my sleeping pills for the long drive home.
The itching was momentarily vanquished.
Kara and I decided last Saturday, regarding nature, that it would be so much better if the bugs were withdrawn, the dirt removed…and I, personally, petitioned for the addition of something pink and plushy.