Rajablogg.COM - Travel is not something I frequently do. My body is not really up to the stress and of course, not having a driver's license, transportation is difficult if not via a bicycle or hitched ride.
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| My recycled travel pill bottle |
But when I do go somewhere I need to make sure I have access to my medications.
Like clockwork, my heart beat begins to accelerate once the morning dose of metoprolol starts to leave my system. Likewise with a diminishing concentration of Losartan, my blood pressure rises. If I do not take my afternoon beta-blocker and blood pressure meds then I invite a good chance of AFib or VTach to kick in. VTach and AFib are bad influences on a shredded, torn aorta.
Even more important is the Warfarin. A mechanical aortic valve requires clot-free surroundings and freely flowing blood to operate properly. Clots like to form around foreign objects inside our bodies. Warfarin helps protect me from valve issues by mitigating clotting action.
Leaving the house requires me to find my way back to the house in time to stay current with strict medication routines. This applies to any travel away from the house, be the trip one mile or one hundred miles in distance.
At the end of the day I need to find my medicine. My life depends upon it.
Even the area where Dr. Bates installed the Dacron graft over my ascending aorta, begins to hurt if I skip a dose of Metoprolol or Losartan. I am not talking about a three or four pain level either, rather one much higher up on the pain scale.
In order to alleviate potential pain and panic I now carry a one weeks does of all my meds everywhere I go. Sure I probably don't need that much with me at all times, but having a 'safety net' of spare meds alleviates potential panic. Panic generates adrenaline, something I don't need with a dissected descending aorta.
I've been carrying these spare meds around in an old prescription pill container.
There are probably nicer or better spare end cases but I like my old pill bottle.
Just knowing my magic pills are there, inside the plastic bottle is a comfort. When I leave the house without them I always immediately find a way back home to retrieve them. I honestly can not imagine not having them with me, even on a short trip across this side of town like a walk up to the corner library.
Just shaking the container and hearing my pills rattle around inside is often the only thing I need to do in order to slow my pulse down.
Sometimes something so seemingly insignificant and little can really make a difference in the quality of life for people with disabilities, like myself.
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