Because of my background as an athlete, I try to tough it out sometimes. I also think I get this trait because of my four older brothers. While growing up, I had to learn that calling for Mom’s help too soon might get me more noogies than I had originally anticipated.
Regardless, I tend to not complain much about physical ailments. That contributed a lot to me waiting so long before getting my heart and cholesterol level checked out earlier this fall.
In the end, the tests showed that I was just being a big baby worrying about my heart, but I did have to start paying attention to my cholesterol.
I knew this day would come. Some of my siblings have this problem. A lot of other people do. I didn’t expect to be spared. So now I take a pill each night.
But I didn’t expect one pill each night to make me feel so old. It’s not the side effects or anything. I just feel old having to take care of a serious condition before I turn 40.
This is where my usual non-complaining gene kicks in. I know others have it a lot worse than I do, and I should be happy that I know about the problem sooner rather than later.
Still I felt old. And stupid. At least after the first night I got the medication.
I need to take my pill with dinner each night. So the night I was going to start – I waited until after we got back from Vegas because I didn’t want to have any issues while on vacation – I had my dinner, went into the kitchen and popped my pill.
At least I thought it was my pill. I actually grabbed Maria’s prescription by mistake and had one of her pills.
I didn’t realize this right away even though our medications came in completely different bottles. God forbid, I look at the bottle, much less the label.
I had gone upstairs to read about side effects in case I started having them. After a few minutes of trying to decide whether my new medication was going to kill me on the spot, I went downstairs to check the bottle.
That’s when I realized my mistake. And that’s when my wife started laughing hysterically.
I didn’t know what to do. I don’t have a long history with medication so I kind of got freaked out, way more than any side effect would have done. I considered all the bad possibilities as my wife unsuccessfully tried to stifle her laughter.
After a few minutes, I called Poison Control at Maria’s suggestion. I think she just wanted to hear me stop complaining. The woman on the other end managed not to laugh at me and told me what I took couldn’t harm a 2-year-old.
That made me feel a little better. I may be stupid, but my stupidity wasn’t going to kill me. At least not this time.