Forgetting to take my morning meds (steroids, thyroid stuff, pain killers, hormones) is never a great start to the day.
We set them out the night before, in a cute pill-pot (because THAT makes it so much less loathsome!) and when Ben brings me my morning yoghurt drink (with live “good gut” bacteria, naturally) I reflexively reach for the pills and knock them back with the drink.
But I go through periods where I simply don’t remember to take them. It’s stupid. My brain is stupid. I’ve been taking them every day for years – how can I possibly forget them?
Last night, as you may be aware if you’ve been bored or kind enough to read my blog, was a moderately horrible end to a very horrible day, and consequently I didn’t get to sleep til the birds started singing and the darkness morphed into pale fingers of light delicately probing through the gap in my curtains. Of course I felt rubbish this morning. That’s no different from most days, to be honest, and it’s certainly no surprise that after yesterday I would wake up feeling run over, beaten up, and poisoned.
But to forget my morning pills…..that’s a biggie for me. I only realised just now, when I went to put the rest of the day’s drugs in the cute pill-pot (I have to count out my doses for the day and put them in that pot so I can check if I’ve taken what I should, when I should. I lose track, otherwise.) I flipped the pretty lid, et voila! The pot still had my morning dose inside it. I wouldn’t have known if I hadn’t opened it. I would have just spent an even worse day than usual, wondering wtf I’d got wrong this time.
Thank God I had the sense to put a system in place to catch these failings. I think I’ll have to get Ben to go back to prompting me by adding “Pills!” to his morning greeting.
Effing fibro. 😦