Jackie Wells-Fauth
Roy and I went on a wonderful little driving getaway this last couple of weeks. I couldn’t find too much to complain about, but I think Roy was a little upset with my packing ability.
“Don’t forget, you need to pack your prescriptions,” he reminded me. “Enough for the time we are going to be gone.”
I pointed to the medium-sized carrying bag on the table and said, “Don’t you worry about that. Everything’s there.”
He went over to the table and tried to heft the bag…and failed. “What in the world is in here?”
I was ready with my answer. “I have every type of over the counter medication we might need for our ten days on the road.”
“You have every kind of over the counter medication we might need for a 30-year trip to the moon,” he said, digging through the top cartons and bottles. “Are you feeling that bloated, stopped up sensation?” he asked, holding up the Miralax.
Sometimes, men just don’t understand. Okay, so maybe I’m not constipated now, but what if, during some point in the ten days, I eat too much cheese? A person has to be prepared for that. I put the Miralax back in the bag.
He pulled out a series of elastic straps and hooks. “What are these for?”
“Who knows when my ankle might act up?” I asked indignantly. “I can’t go through ten days limping on one foot, can I? I need a brace.”
“And the same is true for your back, your knees and both of your hands,” he said, as he pulled each brace out of the bag.
“Yes, yes, and double yes,” I answered, putting all of them back in.
He continued to look. “When was the last time you had a random toothache, or sudden hemorrhoids or even a sprained finger? All of these medicines look new. Did you clean out the pharmacy?”
“No, and that reminds me, we have to stop back there before we leave town.”
“What, you forgot heartburn tablets? Liver pills? Contraception?” Sometimes he’s so sarcastic.
“No, smartie, I just forgot to pick up my actual prescription drugs,” I was reluctant to admit this.
Despite this shaky medical start, the trip got off splendidly…until we realized we had to test for Covid because of an exposure we were unaware of.
“No problem,” Roy said, raking through the medicine bag. “I’m sure you brought some tests along.”
“I wonder if that pharmacy across the street is open until 10 pm,” I speculated aloud.
“You mean…”
“Yes, I mean I didn’t even think about bringing along Covid tests, so now I have to make another pharmacy visit.” I was a little frustrated by this. I had proven that I could pack the entire medicine chest and still not bring along the things I needed.
The good news was that the Covid test was negative, so we were able to continue on our trip. But every night, Roy carried in the medicine bag, set it in a neglected corner and held his tongue…although he did look pretty smug.
And then, justice–or at least, vindication! The poor man stepped off a curb and did some minor damage to his dignity and his body.
“Don’t you worry,” I said. “I’ve got sanitary wipes, antiseptic and bandaids. I’m so glad.”
“You’re so glad I fell?” he questioned through his teeth.
“Of course not,” I said. “I’m just glad I was prepared with this medicine bag.”
“I have a headache,” he complained.
“Have some Tylenol, I’ve got a whole bottle right here,” as I handed it over, I was already thinking about what I will pack next time in the medicine bag…but I’m probably gonna need a bigger bag!
dropsinthewell 