Tales Of Middle Age Featuring Pills, The Wrestler, Jitterbug, and Life Alert

This morning I took several more steps down the inevitable path to old age, decay, abandonment, and sitting around in a tatty dressing gown wondering when someone would come visit me in the home.

What happened was this. I was having breakfast, reading about musician George Thorogood and his penchant for black snakeskin clothes, when I realized I could not remember if I’d taken my blood pressure pill. I knew I’d taken it yesterday, because I had recently watched the movie “THE WRESTLER” and there was a scene where Mickey Rourke took some pills, and first he shook the bottle. I have no idea why he did that, other than to signal the audience that he, the Wrestler, was about to take some pills which was somehow going to be relevant to the story. Perhaps he felt the scene was too quiet and he wanted to make it a little merrier. Since it was not a very merry film at all, I can understand why he might have thought this. However, I, myself,  have never shaken the bottle when I have taken any pills, and I thought it was an odd thing to do. The next morning, when I picked up my little bottle of “Listen Up” blood pressure pills, I decided to give them a little shake. It did indeed make a merry sound. Anyway, the point is, I know I took my pill that day because of the little shake. But this morning, I could not remember if I’d taken the pill.

And then of course, I started to think about how very old I am, which led me, as it usually does, to think about that gigantic Jitterbug phone. I am torn about the Jitterbug phone. On the one hand, “It doesn’t have a gazillion features! Only the ones you need.” On the other hand, apparently when you’re old you only need two buttons on your phone – 1) huge button that says “home” so when you wander away from the facility and the police find you, they can call someone to come get you; and 2) huge button that says “O” so you don’t have to try to make your gnarled arthritic fingers dial an entire number. “Special operators can assist you – twenty-four hours a day!”

The Jitterbug phone takes you back to the olde times, when you dialed “O” and got a person, instead of robot voice mail. And that person was a woman sitting at a huge switchboard, and she would plug things in and out and say, “I’m connecting you now.” And then she would secretly listen to you tell your best friend that your husband was having an affair and you just drank a bottle of gin. Ah, the good olde times, when you just had to dial “O.”

Of course, after that I had to go find the Jitterbug commercial on YouTube, which was a mistake because I still can’t get the stupid theme song out of my head (“JItterbug! Jitterbug!”) But I did find this, which made me laugh, even though I don’t have children and I’m fairly certain I’ll die alone and forgotten and possibly lie for days before anyone discovers my decaying body.

Anyway, I eventually ended up at CVS Pharmacy where I bought one of those pill containers that has a little compartment for each day of the week. When I got home I spent twenty minutes trying to open it before I figured out the secret of the child lock mechanism. I’m exhausted, but pretty sure I’ve got the whole “take a pill each morning” thing under control now, and I’ll live another day to fight the fight.

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3 Comments on “Tales Of Middle Age Featuring Pills, The Wrestler, Jitterbug, and Life Alert”

  1. Imogen says:

    I had to get one of those boxes to make sure my husband is taking his meds – and he’s younger than me!

  2. deja pseu says:

    LOL!

    I have one of those pill boxes too for my thyroid meds, which have to be taken as soon as I wake up when my conscious brain has not yet fully engaged (*that* requires coffee). I stumbled across a really cute one at Kitson: it’s a metal case with a decoupaged top which says “drugs” and is festooned with a few rhinestones. Inside are the day of the week thingies. I hope the nurses in the home won’t steal my pillbox because it’s so cute…

  3. karen says:

    HA! I have one of the pill boxes too, but I stopped using it because I could never remember what day of the week it was, rendering the box useless. I will start shaking the bottle like Mickey–there must be something to it and I’m gonna find out, dammit.


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