You flow down my throat, course through my veins, and pour into my lungs. I revolve my life around your dose times. I make numerous trips to the pharmacy to the point where they now call me by name and ask how my husband is doing. I take 14 of you in the morning, 7 of you at lunch, 8 of you at dinner, and 11 of you at night. Being able to swallow you whole for the first time is one of my most vivid childhood memories. You are the first thing I pack and unpack when on vacation. I have dreams of diving into a sea of enzyme capsules, flying through the haze of inhaled medicinal mist, or panicking when I’ve forgotten to bring enough of you to my dreamland holiday. Sometimes you do your job, and sometimes it’s not enough. Sometimes you make me throw up and sometimes you make me feel better. You allow me to function. You allow me to breathe. You allow me to live. But on the day when I’ll need just a few of you, maybe even just one of you to keep me alive, to suppress or perhaps even cure this disease, I will celebrate in a HUGE way. Until that day comes, I’ll continue to swallow, inhale and inject you into my body in hopes of getting through another day.
|My rainbow of meds|