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A lot of work for a little bit of a sore throat

I woke up early Tuesday morning (and by early, I mean 3 a.m.) with three annoying sensations — a sore throat, an earache, and the feeling that my dog was staring at me with that “I need to go out, and I need to go out right now,” look in his eyes.
I had heard over the weekend that head colds were making their fall emergence, along with the Asian beetles. Neither are very welcome in my household.
I got up, let the dog out to do his business, then pulled a chair into the kitchen so I could scour the top shelf of the cupboard for cold pills. Why I store my meds on the top shelf, out of reach, is beyond me, since there are no children in my house and the dog has never shown any interest in them.
I pawed through antacids, migraine medications, heartworm pills, vitamins, and other paraphernalia and finally netted myself a lone cold pill ensconced in a foil and plastic bubble wrapper. Anyway, I think it was a cold pill. I’d left my bifocals upstairs on the nightstand.
After about five minutes of trying to get the dang pill out of the bubble, I was sure it was a cold pill. Pharmaceutical companies want to make sure these little things don’t fall into the wrong hands — like toddlers and meth makers.
After several attempts to catch a corner of the foil under my fingernail so I could peel it back, I was tempted to stab it open with a butcher knife, but finally settled for cutting it out with a scissors. It seems like an awful lot of work for something that only relieves symptoms, and isn’t actually a cure. After all that effort, I was sure I would put on my glasses and find out it had expired. (Mental note to self: clean all expired stuff out of cupboards, which should free up a lot of room).
After finally swallowing the pill, I remembered the dog was outside. I opened the door to find him standing with his nose about two inches from the storm door, staring with his eyes squinted half shut, as if trying to send me a telepathic message that he wanted back in. He then went to his water bowl and slurped down about a gallon, ensuring me that we would be back up by 6 a.m. to relieve his bladder again.
I woke up actually feeling somewhat better, which was great. I was in no mood to go shopping for cold medication, which requires a driver’s license and all kinds of hoopla that I don’t care to deal with. It’s probably easier to buy a gun in this state than over-the-counter cold medication.
Maybe the cold pill hadn’t expired after all. Come to think of it, I’m still not 100 percent sure it was a cold pill. But I do know it wasn’t a heartworm pill. Those are chewable, not to mention much easier to get out of the foil wrappers.
But still, I’d better go through those cupboards this week and find out what all I have … and move it to the bottom shelf.