I know…pill box is a term from WWII for small forts equipped with machine guns or small cannons…but the pill box in my life is a little plastic thing with separate compartments marked S through S with tiny lids you can lift to load…or to unload…meds. The idea is to keep track of what you took when…or what you forgot to take when. Even with a pill box organizer, I sometimes can’t remember if I took the darned pills or not. Or if I actually loaded the compartments with the prescribed stuff.
I think I’m lucky to only take two meds…unless you count aspirin…which I don’t. After all, I was using aspirin before I knew it was good for something other than headaches. Or the flu. (“Take two aspirin, drink lots of fluids, go to bed, and see me in the morning.”) I remember once opting to drink beer for my “fluids.” Didn’t work very well, so I really did have to take two aspirin.
What I don’t like about my pill box isn’t the meds or forgetting to either load it or to take the nasty little pills inside. No. What I don’t like is the daily reminder of how quickly a week passes. At my age, it’s a little scary. Makes me think I better hurry up and write a song called “The Pill Box Blues.”
Ciao, Rod
Jacqui says
My husband complains that he loses track of the day, thinks he didn’t (or did) take the pills, and explodes the entire purpose of the pillbox. Sigh.
MartinDrunc says
Hi All im noob here. Good article! Thx! Love your stories!
Rod Collins says
Thank you, Martin. I’ll keep on writing.