Medical Adventures

Well, I missed the fireworks. So did Kathy. She came with me to the hospital because we figured we could leave directly from there. It was a good idea, had it not been for the 4 hours it took to get my second round of intravenous antibiotics: three hours of waiting for a doctor to look at me and a nurse to hook me up, and another hour for the stuff to run through. Sigh.

To be fair, there were some more urgent cases than mine. Three people were brought in by ambulance and wheeled in on stretchers. Others had twisted and possibly broken arms and legs, gasoline burns, a variety of cuts and gashes, and more. I was probably the healthiest sicko there. Thus the wait.

Thanks to Allison for some suggestions of other occasions to see fireworks, like the continuing Festival of Fire at Ontario Place and the upcoming Symphony of Fire at the CNE. That’s what friends are for!

Now I’ve just got a week of oral antibiotics ahead of me. The pills are big enough to choke a horse! When the pharmacist saw them, he said, “Wow, this is powerful stuff! What did you do?” I told him about my friendly, docile little pussycat and he said that he’s seen a lot of cat bites turning nasty, far more than those inflicted by dogs. Great! So next time I’ll make sure I’m bitten by a dog.

Speaking of health issues, Kathy just got a thyroid medication prescription for a total of 1500 pills. The pharmacist looked rather stunned and was sure there had been a mistake until we explained it was enough for the next four years in Africa. The drug isn’t available in Burkina. Nevertheless the pharmacist seemed determined to convince us that we were making a mistake to take so many, telling us that the expiry date was at most a year and a half from now. When Kathy pointed out that it didn’t mean that this particular medication was no longer any good, he admitted she was right, but that it would no longer be at quite the same strength.

The pharmacist continued by asking if we couldn’t get a family member to purchase the medication for Kathy when she needed it in the future. Now there was an idea! How hard would it be to set that up? No problem at all, he insisted. Perfect!

When he stocked shelves at a Barrie grocery store, we called our son The Night Stalker. (stocker/stalker; get it? :) I wonder what we can call him when he goes and buys drugs for us?