This is our drug cupboard, and you don’t see the containers behind those!
I consider myself a fairly healthy mid-fifties woman, who nevertheless relies on a daily regimen of drugs, both prescription and OTC to stay that way. Each morning I portion out the pills: three different ones for my aching joints, one to keep my underactive thyroid working better, one to control migraines, a magnesium tablet and a multi-vitamin.
Most mornings I do it without thinking too much, I do it in a particular order so that I don’t double dip or forget one. Periodically though, as I look at the handful of pills, I get depressed at the betrayal of my body. And then I can start to lay blame. If only I looked after myself better, if only I exercised more, if I lost some more weight. If only, if only, if only. Most women I know can identify with the love/hate relationship we have with our bodies. Yesterday, as I picked up another prescription at the drug store was one of those days. However, the latest one is only for 5 days!
On my good days, which are most of my days, I am thankful that I live in a time when drugs are available, that I have a drug plan that pays for 80% of them. I thankful that I live in a time when a bacterial infection can be cleared up in a matter of a week or so. I am thankful that my daily medications enable me to go about most of my days with energy and comfort. Yes, I would rather not have to take medication, but without it, my life would be constrained and restricted.
I am thankful that this mid-fifties, imperfect and flawed body has also completed two 10k walks and raised $3000 for the work of the United Church by participating in the Bluenose Marathon. I am thankful that I can belly dance with my 18 year old granddaughter on a regular basis and have performed in a number of shows, I am thankful that I can walk regularly, at least in good weather. I am thankful that I can enjoy a night out with my husband. And I am thankful that I can keep up with my 4 year granddaughter, at least for a couple of hours.
So this is me, on drugs.
And that’s my window on God's world.