It was 10:30.
That's past my bedtime, far too late for me.
I had thought about taking my meds earlier, around seven, when I had just gone into my house to wash up.
I call it "refreshing".
I can't stand to be dirty. I have to clean the germs off.
Cancer has officially made me a clean freak germaphobe, as if being a nurse didn't predispose me to that anyway.
I decided to wait on the meds though. I decided I was a big tough girl and could handle staying up to play.
So at 1030, when I got around to to take my meds, I'm going though the process, one bottle after another, left to right at night, across the vanity when I get a pill bottle to whip it open.
My hand shakes.
The bottle slips and swirls out of my hand, the cover releasing on the corner of the counter. Ugh! Dammit!
MY PILLS, all over the floor around the toilet to the tub a whole bottle of bactrim, newly opened.
DAMMIT DAMMIT DAMMIT.
I can't go without those. - can't get a new script I just barely got that script! That f***ing Mexican jumping pill was the very first one!
I decided I would brave bathroom gems and possible disease and collect the pills. I scooped them into the bottle to put them away.
Then I looked at the bottle.
Being a new bottle it looks exactly identical in label to all other medco bottles, everything except the name.
I didn't look and read what I was talking. I just checked the shapes and structure of the label.
I didn't even have to take that pill! I take bactrim in the morning!