1, 2, 3, 4

I haven’t written much about my medication, especially after this recent change (which has me on – you guessed it – four different meds). Despite having talked before about what I was on, for some reason I’m reluctant right now. Partly because I’m starting to seriously feel like a mental patient, but also because the transition has been really rough and, frankly, people probably don’t need to know what things are like right now unless they have to witness it firsthand (ahem, sorry dear husband).*

So in the spirit of laughing about it, here’s a peek into my current medicinal routine (with some creative liberties taken) courtesy of (with apologies to?) Feist. Revised lyrics below.

(What? I like the Sesame Street version. Shuddup.)

One, two, three, four
Meds that I do not adore
I hate counting
Counting to the number four

Oh you’re counting
Counting with me
To one less than five
And one more than three

Oh oh oh, we’re counting to four
Oh oh oh, let’s count some more

One, two, three, four
Pills that I cannot ignore
I hate counting
Counting to the number four

I see four here
I see four there
They’re always around
I’m always aware

One, two, three, four
Meds that I do not adore

Whoa, counting to four
Whoa, counting to four

Counting to four

*Obligatory disclaimer: meds are not evil. They’re helping – I think – but this transition has been harder than others and the bedtime one makes it rather hard to function in the morning. The good thing about that is that I’m off work so it’s okay if I’m passed out until noon. The bad thing is that it’s a bit like a daily hangover with an undisclosed side effect: falling down – and up – the stairs. Or maybe that’s just operator error...