First: a little nature/nurture context. I am quite a bit like my parents (yes, really!), It is a source of pride, distress, benefit, and doom. Like both of them I am aggressively pragmatic, organized, and as the Brits say, Sorted. However, with age came some, er slippage. One example: Mom and Dad had cute little look alike three-times-a-day pill containers which Mom filled obsessively and accurately. However, twice (Actually Twice, not Elton's "twice now") Dad swallowed Mom's lunch dose before she could hand him the correct one. Mom was treated for high blood pressure; Dad was a biological wonder of remaining vertical when his pressures suggested he should be flat on his back. This small deviation from plan led to him feeling very light headed and unsteady on his pins which is not useful for a man with a bit of Parkinson-like balance/falling issues. Upon the second iteration of this goof, my sister in law (also pragmatic, and a former RN) stated: the day of the look alike pill containers is OVER. Being pragmatic and organized (also willing to adapt as needed), Mom switched to different colored containers. By the way, when asked if he had not noticed that his lunch pills looked very different than usual he admitted that they Had, but then he swallowed them anyway. Their dynamic by this time had become: Mother deems and Dad (being a gentleman) complies.
I too, benefit from the miracle which is modern pharmacology. In addition to one likely unneeded multi-vitamin for old folks and vitamin D3, I take the following critical corrections to my natural state: Magnesium for my world class muscle cramping tendency, an allergy pill, a Macular vitamin and testosterone blocking pills for life long "youthful" skin. And critically, I take what I fondly refer to as my anti-psychotic. It's approved use is for depression, but judging from the dreams I have when I overly delay or (worse, much worse) skip a daily dose, it is critical to keep a serious insanity at bay. It should be easy, as in fact it once was to take these with the breakfast I NEVER skip. But a few days ago, I failed to access the tidily secreted, 7-day pill container and blithely sailed through the day and to an early bed. I woke about 10 hours later (my usual is 6) in a pool of sweat feeling like I had tried to out-drink a sailor on leave. (Side note: my dreams were vivid and disorganized with bizarre elements including semi-nakedness, some wantonness, and sailors). From prior examples of this error, I knew what had happened. As inspired by my S-I-L: the day of the hidden pill container is OVER. I must sacrifice my fung-shui devotion to visual spareness and simplicity at the alter of: things have changed, and not for the better.
I will end with a few of my favorite quotes regarding aging:
Unknown: "You are never too old to learn something stupid"
Unknown: "Time may be a great healer, but is a lousy beautician"
My Dad: "Getting older is not all it's cracked up to be."