Which, when you get right down to it, is probably the best course of action to take. I mean, think about doctors. A kid, like me, goes to college for four years and gets a degree in pre-med. Then she goes to med school for another four just to get the right to try to treat other people. I’ve met a lot of pre-med kids and a lot of med school students. I wouldn’t trust them with a Nerf bat and a bag of marshmallows, let alone a scalpel and a prescription pad. And yet, here I am, sitting on my bed and staring at the scribbled doctor’s note and a bag of unpleasant-looking gear for the bathroom.
The prescription, I note, is for ten days. Amy, the PA, came out with it and said to try to get it filled right away. She also said that it was to be taken with a multi-vitamin and with food. This raised alarm bells for me. If I’m taking this pill with a vitamin and with chicken soup, what the hell is the pill supposed to do for me that the rest of them can’t? Cheer the vitamins on?
And here’s the other questionable part. I was prescribed this pill before the doctor knew what I had. That, I realize, was the role of the poo bag I’d been given. I am to make sure that I have a good movement, and a fresh one, to go to a lab somewhere. Now, bear in mind, I have not had any solid food for a day and a half, and that the last thing I want to do right now is hold a plastic baggie over my bum and wait.