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Category: Trying Stuff

Pill Popping and Shopping… Round 2 (because failure is not an option)

I (and some of you) stand corrected.  The pill fob I listed as #2 in my initial pill popping post was a dud.  A cheap, sleek, fairly-feminine keychain, but an awful pill fob.  The lid slides off at the most inopportune times, spilling tiny white pills (in a variety of sizes) all over wherever I may be.  All-in-all the Stainless Steel Key Ring Pill Box was a $3.29 reminder that cheaper is often just that.  Cheaper.

So, to save Daniel and I further embarrassment (and money on wasted medicine),  I spent this evening revisiting my options, and ordered the momma-bear version of #4.

It’s a red  zippered pill case which includes seven vials that will fit in my pocket when I am at work or out to eat.  They come in a larger case that will keep track of my medication on lengthier trips.  I anticipate this will be the ideal, discreet solution and will prove worth the 1,000% increase in my initial investment.

In other news, I have a lot on my mind of late and I want to know your opinion on the subject.  Check back later this week to opine.

Pill Popping and Shopping… A Somewhat Related Find

I found this today, while doing some Christmas shopping at my beloved Blue Ribbon General Store.  Even though I hate giving up my gift-giving secrets, I thought I would share, as it is somehwhat related to my most-recent post.

Medicine Kit

It’s a mini medicine cabinet, stocked to cover all situations.  From headaches, to sleeplessness and paper cuts… with this little gem you’ll be good to go.

My love to all.  And please, be smart.

Image via Blue Ribbon General Store

Pill Popping and Shopping

I admit, I’ve become one of those people.  Someone who must take her medicine, on a regular schedule, for an indefinite number of years, and yet so frequently forgets to take the medication that makes such a difference on her quality of life.

And for this I must pay… in two ways.

1.  By eating my words. I regularly nag my mother for neglecting to take what we call her “breathing meds.”  She is severely asthmatic and tends to only take her medicine on an as-needed basis, even though her doctors stress the importance of a consistent prevention routine.  I am, officially, a hypocrite in one more way.

2.  By spending money. I need to buy a portable pill case.  Something simple I can carry with me all the time.  Far too often I leave my purse in the car and don’t remember to take my medicine until we’re home from dinner.  By then it’s nearly 8:00 and the mandatory four hour wait between medicine and sleep has me up until the wee hours of the morning trying desperately to sit up and stay awake.

Most pill cases are fairly large and hideous, but I’m looking for  a portable option that reflects my taste and fits my lifestyle.  Although I have yet to place an order, I have narrowed down my options and learned something valuable in the process:

There is a fine line between an ammunition-shaped drug culture reference and a Tupperware party.  And that line is, apparently, a prescription pill fob.

Seriously?!  A stash pendant?

And, with that, I will drag my online shopping away from the shady fringe to a whole lot of stainless steel:

1.  Deluxe Pill Fob Necklace ($5-$10)

2.  Stainless Steel Key Ring Pill Box (about $4)

3.  Harry Koenig Round Pull Box (about $10)

4.  Vial Pill Case – 14 Day (about $40)

5.  Ezy Dose Deluxe Metal Pill Fob Key Chain ($5-$10) similar

6.  e-pill MedMemory Pill Carrier (about $40) not pictured

Which would you select?  Do you have a similar product?  Is there something else you recommend I look into?

Kate Update: Five Months since Mayo Clinic

It’s been five months since my trip to the Mayo Clinic in Arizona began.  Since my three weeks in Arizona, I’ve come to terms with the fact that I will, most likely, make a trip to Mayo Clinic at least once a year.  I’ve come to terms with the fact that I will, most likely, continue consuming seemingly excessive amounts of salt until it kills me, or I die of natural causes.  I’ve come to terms with the fact that I will, most likely, always require medication to tame my heart conditions and reduce my dizziness.

My health is, by no means, perfect… but I am nonetheless astounded by the scope of my improvement.

As part of my Mayo-prescribed treatment plan I have:

  1. increased my daily water intake to 4-7 liters of water
  2. added salt to nearly everything I’ve eaten since my visit in January
  3. incorporated cardio-centric exercise into my nearly-daily routine
  4. taken my medicine, as directed, for five months

I continue to strive to improve my adherence to Dr. General Hospital’s advice, and am currently focusing on increasing the intensity and duration of my exercise, and taking my medicine more consistently and at a standard time.

Thank you for your encouragement and support.  I am grateful for your perspective and your advice.  We’re lucky folks, to have a the ability to network and find answers with the click of the mouse or touch of the screen (Anyone else excited for WWDC and Monday’s big announcement?).

Look for future posts about my progress, and tips that help me improve my quality of life, despite having a chronic pain condition.

Kate Update: Medicine, Mayo, and My Doctor

Despite my dramatically improved health, I still have minutes, hours, and days when I feel positively dreadful. When I turn around in my chair at work I feel like I just road the teacups. When I get angry and my blood pressure goes up (in addition to the hardcore medicine I am already on that raises said blood pressure) I get disoriented. When I abruptly stand, I nearly faint. Every time.

So, when I am having a stressful day at work, and I turn away from my desk, stand up, and begin walking to the water fountain to refill what I lovingly refer to as my Ironman (bought it before the movie came out), you can imagine how I feel. My ears ring, my vision blurs, and I literally feel my heart pounding behind my eyes.

But after a minute I am back to normal.

And I thank my lucky stars for the family doctor who pushed me to go to Mayo, for Dr. General Hospital and the Mayo Clinic staff, and for family, friends, and coworkers who helped me when I felt awful all day, every day.

And some days, like today, I get to actually thank those people in person.

This evening, while at a sweet and hilarious dance recital, I ran into my family doctor of over a decade (the one who retired while I was away at Mayo). He is a wonderful man and my heart was happy to see him, to be able to say I feel wonderful, and to thank him. Because of his advice, my husband (and others who met me after I turned 12) are amazed at my energy, activity level, and organization. They’ve never known me to be like this, and are getting to know who I am, all over again.

I continue to be overwhelmed by the significance of this improvement in my health. And I will gladly deal accept the aforementioned “touch of the dizzies” as a daily (or so) reminder of what my life would be like without medicine, Mayo, and my doctor.