Wednesday 8am
Take last Rosiglitazone tablet. Make mental note that will need to open new packet tomorrow.
Thursday 8am
New packet of Rosiglitazone tablets not where expected to be. Look in all obvious places. Draw blank.
Thursday 10am
Try to decide whether feeling odd because am anticipating feeling odd, or because am under-medded.
Thursday noon
Am due to collect next cart-load of meds Saturday morning. Ponder whether can manage without Rosiglitazone until then. Reason that it is much smaller than Metformin tablets and probably therefore less important. Fail to recognise either terrifying faultiness of reasoning or fact that is clearly indicative of raised blood sugar levels.
Thursday 2.30 pm
Can no longer pretend am feeling exactly well. Phone pharmacy. Arrange to pick up emergency supply of five tablets first thing in morning.
Friday 9 am
Arrive at pharmacy. To surprise, am able to pick up entire prescription. Am asked whether small, proffered bag contains everything. Point out that take nine separate scripts and that meds therefore usually arrive in large carrier bag. Pharmacist phones GP's surgery. GP's receptionist admits that only first page of script handed to pharmacist's driver earlier in week. Pharmacist confirms with receptionist that am nevertheless permitted to take everything on both pages. Pharmacist fills script. Try to explain that getting meds two days early will still mean dearth of Rosiglitazone at end of four week period but am by now too peculiar to make sense of response.
Stump off to bus stop. Once on bus, search feverishly through carrier bag for Rosiglitazone. Fail to find it. Panic. Envisage own imminent death.
Search carrier bag more slowly. Find Rosiglitazone at very bottom. Take tablet. Think might live after all.
Friday 9.50 am
Amaze friends and colleagues with immense size of four-week drug stash. Wittily declare, "I told you I was ill".
Sunday 8am
Find missing tablets in kitchen sink under washing-up bowl. Berate self mightily. Tell Pop. Am berated mightily by Pop. Hang head in shame.
Take last Rosiglitazone tablet. Make mental note that will need to open new packet tomorrow.
Thursday 8am
New packet of Rosiglitazone tablets not where expected to be. Look in all obvious places. Draw blank.
Thursday 10am
Try to decide whether feeling odd because am anticipating feeling odd, or because am under-medded.
Thursday noon
Am due to collect next cart-load of meds Saturday morning. Ponder whether can manage without Rosiglitazone until then. Reason that it is much smaller than Metformin tablets and probably therefore less important. Fail to recognise either terrifying faultiness of reasoning or fact that is clearly indicative of raised blood sugar levels.
Thursday 2.30 pm
Can no longer pretend am feeling exactly well. Phone pharmacy. Arrange to pick up emergency supply of five tablets first thing in morning.
Friday 9 am
Arrive at pharmacy. To surprise, am able to pick up entire prescription. Am asked whether small, proffered bag contains everything. Point out that take nine separate scripts and that meds therefore usually arrive in large carrier bag. Pharmacist phones GP's surgery. GP's receptionist admits that only first page of script handed to pharmacist's driver earlier in week. Pharmacist confirms with receptionist that am nevertheless permitted to take everything on both pages. Pharmacist fills script. Try to explain that getting meds two days early will still mean dearth of Rosiglitazone at end of four week period but am by now too peculiar to make sense of response.
Stump off to bus stop. Once on bus, search feverishly through carrier bag for Rosiglitazone. Fail to find it. Panic. Envisage own imminent death.
Search carrier bag more slowly. Find Rosiglitazone at very bottom. Take tablet. Think might live after all.
Friday 9.50 am
Amaze friends and colleagues with immense size of four-week drug stash. Wittily declare, "I told you I was ill".
Sunday 8am
Find missing tablets in kitchen sink under washing-up bowl. Berate self mightily. Tell Pop. Am berated mightily by Pop. Hang head in shame.
The Editor
