By the time you are well into adulthood, there are certain things you have most probably done – you have probably seen Les Miserables, you have probably considered switching to internet banking, and you may be puzzled at how much you like to watch the news on TV. There is probably another thing you may have done at some point, hopefully temporarily, by the time you are well into adulthood – you may have been prescribed a tranquilizer or two.
Last year, I was prescribed a tranquilizer, to take for only a short period of time. I guess I was pretty anxious for the rest and relief this medication might offer, which was best symbolized by my running every red light and beeping at pedestrians to get out of my way on the short trip from the doctor's office to the pharmacy. I kept looking at the prescription sheet as I drove – Xanax, it said. Xanax sounded less like a tranquilizer and more like a planet far, far away inhabited by friendly and amazingly calm Xanaxians, located in a dark corner of a distant galaxy. Apparently, I was going to go visit them.
It is interesting when you are going to fill a prescription for anxiety, or any mental health issue – for some reason it makes you act like you are a healthy, super-friendly person who is just dropping by; you don't even know why, really, you are there. Above all, you are NORMAL .
"Can I help you?" the pharmacy clerk asked, as I leaned on the counter in a folksy way, like a character from The Andy Griffith show who had popped in to the corner café. "Oh hi there!" I said loudly, too loudly. (Why was I yelling, and why did I have a southern accent?)" "How you folks doin' today?" The clerk smiled politely, and said, "Can we help you with something?" "I said, "Oh, yes, yes," and hit my brain like in a V8 commercial, like, can you believe I am so relaxed and happy that I don't know why I am here? I turned for acknowledgement of my obvious relaxed normalcy from the other patients, who shrugged tiredly and continued reading the tattered blood pressure pamphlets. I patted my pockets, grinning, like George Bailey's uncle when he is first missing the deposit check in It's A Wonderful Life. "It's here somewhere," I murmured, patting away. I finally came up with it, and handed it over to the clerk. "There the dang thing is – I didn't even really know what I did with it after the doc gave it to me – I thought I lost it! Shucks!" I shrugged for all to see – who cares? I have it, I don't have it – normal people don't care if they have their prescription – they can handle ANYTHING! My grin, my relaxed posture – even the kicking off of my shoes, was meant to imply, I'M NORMAL ! NOTHING WRONG HERE! The clerk straightened the prescription out and tried to see the writing but it was hard, as I had been gripping the square white paper so tightly on the way over it had smudged.
"We'll have this for you in a moment," she said, turning to a small group of other white-coated clerks who had gathered, seemingly looking my way. (Were they calling my doctor? Was there a special alarm button they hit when customers busted out some Andy Griffith/Uncle Billy?)
The prescription was filled, and I zoomed home to try it out. I only had a prescription for 10 pills, so it sounded like a pharmacological version of "This little piggy" as I planned my usage: "This pill I'll use for the plane ride, this pill I'll use for some rest; this little pill I'll use when a college kid calls, this pill I'll use when we've got guests!"
Anyhoo, soon a baby Xanax was coursing through my system, and I could immediately, with some disappointment, tell that it was just not working – apparently I am immune to tranquilizers. "Ha ha, that joke was funny," I said lazily, slumped on the family room couch and thinking in a very abstract way about replacement windows and also ancient Greece . "What joke?" m y husband asked, "the joke I told you ten minutes ago?" I nodded, then kept nodding – wasn't the human neck amazing, the way it nodded to signify "yes"? Sooo neat. Accessing my emotions – any emotion – was suddenly like trying to get at a kernel of corn under a pile of thirty blankets – the kernel of corn being the emotion, and the blankets being Xanax – even if they were soft, comfy blankets.
I learned a few things from Xanax – people get antsy when it takes you a half hour to access your emotions, and you should not drive at all – even backing your car out of the driveway can be rough (that's another column.) And, I have more compassion when I'm at the pharmacy – we're all different, and it's between us and our doctor to work it all out. As for me, I'm done with Xanax -I think I'll see Les Mis next time I need a break!
Deirdre Reilly is a nationally syndicated humor columnist and author of the humor book Exhausted Rapunzel- Tales of Modern Castle Life. Please visit her website at www.exhaustedrapunzel.com. Also, visit her new blog! http://castletalk.blogspot.com/
» left by Laura Trahan(39,252) Laura Trahan (1 year 291 days ago.)
Deidre-LOL! Thanks for the laugh. I loved the writing today! Looking forward to the column about backing out! HA! What a riot!
Thanks so much - I'm so glad you liked it! I should do a column on how I got down the driveway during those ten days - kind of a zig-zag pattern - very scary. :-)
» left by Teresa Ortiz(11,703) Teresa Ortiz (1 year 290 days ago.)
Hi Deirdre, I think I will be checking in on your articles more, I loved this amusing story. I too, would love to experience your drive down your driveway :-) My escape is "Evita" Blessings to you and your family in the new year! Respond to this comment
» left by Dianne Lehmann(5,071) Dianne Lehmann (1 year 289 days ago.)
Dierdre, great article and very funny. Though at the time you were going through it, it probably didn't seem all that funny.
Many years ago, I had Irritable Bowel Syndrome. It wasn't any fun. The drug I was prescribed actually had a barbituate in it to counteract the flushing from another ingredient, so I was told by my Doctor. He knew how I felt about those things. I was so happy for a few days that I couldn't think straight. I was having a ball, but my husband was not at all amused! We were a team selling mobile homes at the time and he was stressed out, I was smiling all the time and he had to do all the driving. I would have been happy to drive, but he just wouldn't let me. Gee, I wonder why. At one point I asked him if he were mad at me, because he sure looked mad. And he said yes, because I was so d*** happy.
I, too, am looking forward to reading more about your experience. Oh, and I know how hard it can be to take mood altering drugs. As it has turned out, my husband is clinically bi-polar and it's taken us a lot of years to find the right drug.
I love your articles. Respond to this comment
» left by Myla Madson(3,396) Myla Madson (1 year 236 days ago.)
Love your writing style and humor. Believe me when I tell you, I'm well aquainted with Xanax...and Valium... and another far off planet or two! I'll be checking out your other articles and joining your fan club. Glad to have found you. Respond to this comment
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