You will find that as you get older, the number of pills that you take each day increases exponentially. Each morning I take two oblong horse pills, two medium-sized red pills, a small pink pill, a pin-head size white pill, and a brown, speckled caplet. I have lost track of what these pills are actually for, but my doctor assures me that they are essential for her to keep getting her commissions from the big, gluttonous, capitalist-pig, drug companies, ... errr ..., my long-term health. I grew suspicious last week when she stated with a straight face that I should immediately fill a prescription to help me with my lactation and to reduce my chances for coming down with flu-like symptoms in my fallopian tubes. At this point, I just shrug, say baaaaa, and run to the drug store. It feels like every one of the clerks there knows me by name. "Norm! How do your fallopian tubes feel today?".It used to be in the old days, the days where we walked uphill both ways carrying 50-lb sacks of potatoes in each hand, in the days before your fancy intranet and magic talking picture boxes, that the prescription bottles actually said what the medication inside was trying to combat. For example, take two pills every evening with warm buttermilk for consumption, or choke down 10 pills every hour with roast duckling to prevent scurvy. It was so much simpler then. Now it seems like my doctor doesn't even need to see me and calls in random prescriptions for me on a weekly basis. Now, I must be off, I think I feel a tingling sensation in my fallopian tubes.
