Not Prescribed
by Michael C. Keith
Genre: Drama
Swearwords: None.
Description: Life can be a real pill.
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About half of all people don’t take medications like they’re supposed to. – Eric Topol
Marissa Harding took a boatload of pills each day to keep the maladies of old age in check. She had not taken prescription drugs of any sort until she hit 70 when arthritis began to attack her joints and cause her pain. Within the same year she had been prescribed meds for an irregular heartbeat, COPD stemming from a life long cigarette habit, and another med for progressive osteoporosis that was beginning to bend her body. What a grievous tsunami of ailments, she lamented.
Just one year later, she was diagnosed with diabetes, resulting in an additional pill. Later that same year, she was given prescriptions for a chronic inner ear disease that caused dizziness, another for tendinitis that resulted in swollen ankles, and two more for acid reflux and cystitis respectively. In all Marissa was downing 21 capsules and tablets a day by her 78th birthday.
This regimen had become a worry and expense to her and one morning she decided to stop taking the pills to hasten her demise. Why live like this? I feel like an ancient ruin and half the time I can’t think clearly because of all the drugs in my system. My quality of life is gone. It’s time to go, thought Marissa, dumping her day’s worth of meds into the commode and flushing it. There, I feel better already.
By the end of the day, she felt no different than she had that morning. In fact, her appetite seemed better than it had in months. Probably all those chemicals were making me less hungry. By God, I think I’ll order a pizza. May be my last supper. So I go out of this world with a little heartburn . . . so what? At least I’ll die happy.
To put it mildly, Marissa was surprised that she was still among the living the next morning. She had devoured half of a peperoni pizza and two glasses of wine before going to bed and had slept the entire night without getting up several times, as was the usual case. My lands, I’m still here, and I think I’m okay, she told herself, climbing from under the covers and putting on her robe and slippers.
Again, she flushed her day’s load of pills down the toilet. After washing her face and wiping it with a generous amount of Pond’s Cold Cream, she proceeded to the kitchen where for the first time in several years, she made a pot of coffee. They said to stay away from caffeine. That it would cause me all kinds of problems, so maybe a couple strong cups will set me free from my world of troubles. Fill it up with plenty of sugar and cream, too, Marissa, old gal.
Contrary to her expectations, she actually felt more energized as the day grew shorter. No sign of things starting to go wrong. No symptoms. Isn’t that amazing? Now why would that be? My doctor told me that all these pills were keeping me alive. So how come I’m not dead yet? In fact, I’m actually feeling better than I did when I was taking them according to his directions.
At suppertime, Marissa ordered three different dishes of Chinese takeout and gobbled down most of them. When she noticed that it was 8 PM, her normal bedtime, she was pleased that she felt no fatigue whatsoever. Now isn’t that something? Heck, I’ll watch some of those later TV shows. Haven’t seen Johnny Carson in years.
It was after midnight when Marissa finally turned in, and she slept soundly until nearly 9 the next morning. My, oh my, I’m starving. Would love a cheese omelet, she thought, rising quickly from bed. Once again she disposed of her daily dose of pills and marveled at how well she felt since she stopped taking them. Should have done this a long time ago.
Marissa began to think that her doctor had been wrong to put her on so many meds and that maybe he had done so to keep her dependent on him. He’s probably in cahoots with those big pharmaceutical companies. Maybe all the old people doctors are in it together to get rich off of us, considered Marissa, as she cracked open several eggs and poured their contents into a bowl.
Several days passed with Marissa continuing to forsake her medicines. Despite this, she felt fine and experienced no negative reactions. All those specialists I’ve been sent to just wanted me hooked on their prescriptions so I’d keep spending money and stay alive long enough for them to pay for their vacation homes in the Bahamas.
On the day that marked the one-week anniversary of Marissa’s abstinence from her multitude of meds, she climbed into her dusty and unused car and drove to Monster Burger for lunch. It had been 4 years since she’d eaten out, and the prospect of doing so excited her. On her way, she managed to sideswipe several parked vehicles and run three red lights without even knowing it.
I’m a new person since I stopped taking those stupid pills. After I have lunch, I’m going to drive over to my primary care doctor’s office and give him a piece of my mind. Maybe I should report his scheme to the newspaper. How dare he treat old folks like this? We have a right to live without the bad effects of all those chemicals they put us on. It’s a horrible thing to be doing to people who’ve reached their so-called golden years.
When Marissa arrived at Monster Burger she ordered its Super Colossal Cheeseburger with fries and a large vanilla milkshake and found a table in which to consume it in peace. Lordy, this smells so good. Jeez, imagine that. I can even smell things better since I’ve been off all those dratted pills.
The manager of the fast food restaurant had not noticed the elderly woman at the far table until closing time. When he approached her, he immediately felt something was wrong. Oh my God! I think she’s dead, he thought.
“Ma’am . . . ma’am?” he ventured and was startled when he got a response.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I must have dozed off. Can I get another Super Colossal Cheeseburger and shake?”
Swearwords: None.
Description: Life can be a real pill.
_____________________________________________________________________
About half of all people don’t take medications like they’re supposed to. – Eric Topol
Marissa Harding took a boatload of pills each day to keep the maladies of old age in check. She had not taken prescription drugs of any sort until she hit 70 when arthritis began to attack her joints and cause her pain. Within the same year she had been prescribed meds for an irregular heartbeat, COPD stemming from a life long cigarette habit, and another med for progressive osteoporosis that was beginning to bend her body. What a grievous tsunami of ailments, she lamented.
Just one year later, she was diagnosed with diabetes, resulting in an additional pill. Later that same year, she was given prescriptions for a chronic inner ear disease that caused dizziness, another for tendinitis that resulted in swollen ankles, and two more for acid reflux and cystitis respectively. In all Marissa was downing 21 capsules and tablets a day by her 78th birthday.
This regimen had become a worry and expense to her and one morning she decided to stop taking the pills to hasten her demise. Why live like this? I feel like an ancient ruin and half the time I can’t think clearly because of all the drugs in my system. My quality of life is gone. It’s time to go, thought Marissa, dumping her day’s worth of meds into the commode and flushing it. There, I feel better already.
By the end of the day, she felt no different than she had that morning. In fact, her appetite seemed better than it had in months. Probably all those chemicals were making me less hungry. By God, I think I’ll order a pizza. May be my last supper. So I go out of this world with a little heartburn . . . so what? At least I’ll die happy.
To put it mildly, Marissa was surprised that she was still among the living the next morning. She had devoured half of a peperoni pizza and two glasses of wine before going to bed and had slept the entire night without getting up several times, as was the usual case. My lands, I’m still here, and I think I’m okay, she told herself, climbing from under the covers and putting on her robe and slippers.
Again, she flushed her day’s load of pills down the toilet. After washing her face and wiping it with a generous amount of Pond’s Cold Cream, she proceeded to the kitchen where for the first time in several years, she made a pot of coffee. They said to stay away from caffeine. That it would cause me all kinds of problems, so maybe a couple strong cups will set me free from my world of troubles. Fill it up with plenty of sugar and cream, too, Marissa, old gal.
Contrary to her expectations, she actually felt more energized as the day grew shorter. No sign of things starting to go wrong. No symptoms. Isn’t that amazing? Now why would that be? My doctor told me that all these pills were keeping me alive. So how come I’m not dead yet? In fact, I’m actually feeling better than I did when I was taking them according to his directions.
At suppertime, Marissa ordered three different dishes of Chinese takeout and gobbled down most of them. When she noticed that it was 8 PM, her normal bedtime, she was pleased that she felt no fatigue whatsoever. Now isn’t that something? Heck, I’ll watch some of those later TV shows. Haven’t seen Johnny Carson in years.
It was after midnight when Marissa finally turned in, and she slept soundly until nearly 9 the next morning. My, oh my, I’m starving. Would love a cheese omelet, she thought, rising quickly from bed. Once again she disposed of her daily dose of pills and marveled at how well she felt since she stopped taking them. Should have done this a long time ago.
Marissa began to think that her doctor had been wrong to put her on so many meds and that maybe he had done so to keep her dependent on him. He’s probably in cahoots with those big pharmaceutical companies. Maybe all the old people doctors are in it together to get rich off of us, considered Marissa, as she cracked open several eggs and poured their contents into a bowl.
Several days passed with Marissa continuing to forsake her medicines. Despite this, she felt fine and experienced no negative reactions. All those specialists I’ve been sent to just wanted me hooked on their prescriptions so I’d keep spending money and stay alive long enough for them to pay for their vacation homes in the Bahamas.
On the day that marked the one-week anniversary of Marissa’s abstinence from her multitude of meds, she climbed into her dusty and unused car and drove to Monster Burger for lunch. It had been 4 years since she’d eaten out, and the prospect of doing so excited her. On her way, she managed to sideswipe several parked vehicles and run three red lights without even knowing it.
I’m a new person since I stopped taking those stupid pills. After I have lunch, I’m going to drive over to my primary care doctor’s office and give him a piece of my mind. Maybe I should report his scheme to the newspaper. How dare he treat old folks like this? We have a right to live without the bad effects of all those chemicals they put us on. It’s a horrible thing to be doing to people who’ve reached their so-called golden years.
When Marissa arrived at Monster Burger she ordered its Super Colossal Cheeseburger with fries and a large vanilla milkshake and found a table in which to consume it in peace. Lordy, this smells so good. Jeez, imagine that. I can even smell things better since I’ve been off all those dratted pills.
The manager of the fast food restaurant had not noticed the elderly woman at the far table until closing time. When he approached her, he immediately felt something was wrong. Oh my God! I think she’s dead, he thought.
“Ma’am . . . ma’am?” he ventured and was startled when he got a response.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I must have dozed off. Can I get another Super Colossal Cheeseburger and shake?”
About the Author
Originally from Albany, New York, Michael C. Keith has paternal family roots stretching back to Clan Keith of Caithness and Aberdeenshire. A leading scholar in electronic media in the United States, he is the author of over 20 books on electronic media, as well as a memoir and three books of fiction. Much more about Michael and his publications can be found on his website: http://www.michaelckeith.com