Monday, December 14, 2015
The above is a picture of a former junk drawer (with vestiges of that use) that now houses my glucometer and morning prescriptions. (My evening prescriptions I keep in the kitchen, so I know which are which without having to think too hard because no one wants to do that.)
For the first 43 years of my life, I was healthy. When I went to a doctor for something and the nurse asked what medications I was on, I could say "none."
Then in 2006, I had a clogged artery and a short list of prescriptions that goes with that.
Then, in 2013, I had a cyst on my pancreas, the removal of which pushed me into diabetes and a longer list of prescriptions that goes with that.
It seems like a small thing in the face of life-threatening health concerns, but the hardest adjustment for me was that I now had a list of medications that I would be on for the rest of my life. When asked what medications I'm on, I have to pull out a list to make sure I name them all. I use a large chain pharmacy in the 4th largest city in the nation, and the pharmacist can still call me by name.
I take a lot of prescription medications.
And yet, here's the thing I have to confess: I've been on the edge of something really serious and life-threatening and all I have to do to follow up is take pills and test my blood sugar twice a day. I had a completely clogged artery on my heart that a skilled doctor was able to open with a stint and not open heart surgery. I had a mass on my pancreas that was not pancreatic cancer.
The grace within these events is more than I can sometimes think about.
I have found it hard to accept that I have to fill prescriptions every month (oh for the days when the instructions were to use until all were gone!). I also find it hard to accept that for some reason, I've been given relatively small consequences to really big scary things.
But grace is like that. My acceptance has little to do with it. It's just there. When I remember it, I thank God.