I'm Your Pusher

The only problem with hitting the ground running is that you have a tendency to overlook some important things. Like breakfast. After jumping out of bed and a quick shower, there was the flurry of telephone calls to arrange this and check on the status of that, then the open road beckoned me to fulfill the wishes of my pusher.

Handing over a scrip to a pharmacist can be a humbling experience, because after all, nobody takes a pill because everything is fine. Although there is no doubt an enterprising young scientist out there working on that very drug.

They greet you warmly like you are an old friend and ask if they can help. You slide the paper over and they read it to find out what is wrong with you. Next comes the sympathy look when they realize how screwed up you really are. Then they ask non-judgmental and unassuming little questions like, “Is the patient aware of the side effects of this medication?” all the while never inferring that you are the patient. You tell them the patient is aware and they nod weakly as if to say, “I’ll be here for you when you need Viagra”.