Val is Sorely Lacking in Christmas Cheer

Remember how, when you were a kid, you stayed awake Christmas Eve in anticipation of Santa's visit? What great fun it was to imagine what he was leaving under the tree? The joy of tearing into those packages once the clock struck six, the earliest time you were allowed to wake your parents and raid the stockpile of gifts?

I felt like that today. I have been sick since Monday night. I called the doctor yesterday to see if I could have some medicine called in to my pharmacy. A little something for a burning chest and green phlegm. I could not get there in time last night. So today, I called the pharmacy to make sure my presents were wrapped and ready for pick-up. Indeed. Two medicinal gifts were awaiting Val at her earliest convenience. The thought got me through the day. An antibiotic, I presumed, for the green phlegm. And some cough medicine to liquify it and expel it without unproductively-coughing my fool head off every sixty seconds.

Remember how, when you were a kid, you ripped open a package and saw that your grandma had given you a twelve-pack of tube socks?

I felt like that today. I arrived at the pharmacy around four. The clerk hauled out a flat package. A FLAT package. It could no more contain a bottle of cough medicine than a wrapped-up Norman Rockwell calendar could contain an Easy Bake Oven. I inquired as to what happened to my Easy Bake Oven--er--my cough medicine. The clerk pointed out that the doctor had prescribed Mucinex to the tune of twenty pills for $23. Which is an over-the-counter med he prescribed, which is not covered by either of my two insurances. When he could have prescribed over-the-counter Robitussin for less than $8. Or a prescription cough liquifier for $4. Neither of which contains pseudoephedrine, a drug which I am not keen on consuming, which is a major component of this new, behind-the-counter Mucinex. C'mon. I'm not looking to make meth.

Remember how, when you were a kid, you ripped open a package and saw that your step-grandma had given you a single pair of tighty-whities to share with your brother?

I felt like that today. The antibiotic my doctor had prescribed was azithromycin. The insert of which warned against driving until I see how my body will react, due to dizziness being a side effect. I'm a working woman (not THAT kind) who must drive herself to work. Who has been having bouts of dizziness since the weekend, along with some ear pain upon swallowing. Oh, and azithromycin is no friend of antacids. Which I take every day. So their fractious relationship pretty much blows the USS Val Takes Azithromycin out of the water.

Sometimes, I just feel like shouting, "BAH! HUMBUG!"