I have a confession to make. I never realized the older I get, the more difficult life seems.
Every time I go to see my doctor, “Dr. Pills-A-Lot,” he has some new prescription for me. I’ve seen him so many times that if you look at the pills on the table, you’d think I was a drug addict.
It started a few years ago when I was hit with shingles. Fortunately, I caught it in time, so it didn’t get as bad as it could have. Then, a few years later, I had a heart attack, which required more pills.
Then, this year I had several skin cancers removed. All of that stuff required pills at some point.
I have one thing that gets me through all of this pill management — wife Martha — The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage. She manages all of my pills all of the time. If I had to manage my pills, I probably would forget to take any.
She also manages my doctor visits. I hate going to any doctor. I know when I have an appointment, and he examines me, he’ll find something that needs a pill.
I have to be careful what I say in front of her. If I happen to mention I have a pain somewhere, she jumps into action and gets me a pill. I’m not sure what that pill is for or what it is, but she insists I take it.
There is one pill that she hasn’t been able to discover, and that is the pill for the Silly Boy Syndrome, of which I have most assuredly.
If, for example, I happen not to take my pills for breakfast and she discovers it, then she says, “What’s wrong with you, you silly boy?”
Once I snuck into the kitchen and quietly opened the freezer door where there was some ice cream and began to pick one up, and who should walk into the kitchen but The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage. She looked at me and said, “You silly boy, you’re not getting ice cream, are you?”
And I can name several other ones, but evidently, she is convinced that I have the Silly Boy Syndrome. I once dared to ask her, “Oh, my dear, do you have a pill for that?”
I don’t have to tell you she wasn’t smiling as she looked at me with hands on hips. I never said it out loud after that, but I thought it a lot.
She knows as much about my pills as the doctors do. She knows all by name and knows exactly what they’re for. At least, that’s what she tells me.
I’m not sure what I’d do without her pill supervision. I certainly couldn’t keep up with all the pills prescribed for me.
Taking my pills regularly cures two things — first, of course, is my health, but the second, more important, is it makes my wife happy. And when she’s happy, I’ll take as many pills as needed.
I couldn’t help but think of my favorite Bible verse from Proverbs:
“A merry heart doeth good like a medicine: but a broken spirit drieth the bones.”
— Proverbs 17: 22
Sometimes it takes effort to have a merry heart. But, believe ‘ is well worth the effort not only for me but for those around me.
Dr. Snyder is a former pastor who lives with the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage, wife Martha, in Ocala, Fla. His email is [email protected].
