Ah, Chemistry

True story: when a friend of mine was in the dating pool, she was on a first date with a man she'd met through a dating site . . . they'd just ordered when he pulled a weathered index card out of his pocket and slid it across the table towards her. She looked at it, and read in block letters the word "chemistry." She looked up, trying to figure out what the hell he wanted. And he said "I just wanted you to know, I think there is chemistry between us." She said it might have had more impact if he'd done it as part of an ongoing conversation, or spontaneously but that he had a worn card in his pocket just was creepy.

But, I'm here to comment on a totally different sort of chemistry . . . big pharma.

As a younger monkey, I so was into the natural remedies . . . the teas I whipped up for minor ailments . . . the holistic little tabs you put under your tongue. (HIPPIE!!!) I also use to be a vegetarian.

But, you grow up and you learn. I do love me some pharmaceuticals. I have a chronic condition that requires a cocktail of meds to keep me functional. Most humans wouldn't know I have this condition, even after spending a bit of time with me. Yay! for drugs.

But, time marches on . . . and it is so difficult to decide if something new is a problem, part of the aging process, or a new twist on the old issue. During my last visit with my doctor, I casually mentioned that there were some minor, nagging issues. She did the long, doctor face and said, "hmmm, we should probably do some tests." And, immediately I was sent to another office where I was poked and scraped and specimen cups were involved and needles.

And then nothing. I figured I'd probably overreacted to the aging process and bee-bopped through my holidays without giving it a thought. Well, except when there were flare ups. But they weren't bad and could be managed with just a tweaking of meds.

Until yesterday. My cell rang, it was my doctor's office. I had just gotten refills of meds, so I wasn't alarmed. Until I realized it was my doctor herself calling . . . not her nurse. My doctor had received some of my test results via paper . . . and others had been sent via electronic records. She neglected to look at all of them before yesterday. And she was horrified. The exact exchange went something like: doctor "you've had time to die six times since we did those tests." Me: "so, you're really glad I answered the phone, eh?"

Apparently, my usual drugs had masked the symptoms of my new issues . . . . and my internal organs should have fallen out by now. So, yay that I'm not doubled over and groaning in pain every day . . but boo that I didn't realize my organs should have been falling out.

New drugs . . . and hopefully everything will stay in it's rightful place. Better living through chemistry, everyday.