The Medicine Box

We moved recently, and as all humans on Earth are well aware, moving is the golden opportunity to lose everything you will need in the future, buy it again piece by piece, then relocate as soon as newly-purchased item is no longer returnable.

The bathroom is the worst of it. We packed our two bathroom cabinets (chock full) into several boxes. Since we moved in October, the boxes are now one-quarter unpacked and three-quarters rummaged-through but still sitting in a closet.

The thing is, I don’t need the bathroom stuff 99% of the time. It can stay in the box until I need it.

Then I need it. Then I get the stomach cramp virus (formerly known as the poisoned platanos malady), and after two days, I am hunting for my stomach cramp remedy. I know we had one. I am 100% sure of it. And I wait until 8 p.m. on a weeknight to decide that I am going to find it, for sure.

I comb through our bathroom boxes. It’s like a medicine museum, showcasing all of my post-pregnancy ailments. There’s my anti-itch cream from my strange postpartum allergic reaction; the ointment I needed for a nursing issue; the only 12-hour cold medicine that worked and was okay to take during pregnancy (one tablet left); nose sprays; test kits; homeopathic alternatives; and a variety of other pharmaceuticals. Everything for everything that might ail you, unless, of course you have stomach cramps. Or a toothache, because the Baby Orajel has also vanished just in time for the worst overnight teething ever.

One nice thing about living in town is that I can now send the husband out on late-night (read: 8:30 pm) emergency medicine runs.

I expect the nearly unused bottle of Imodium to show up at any time now.

Ye olde apothecary box.

P.S. This post represents what I am hoping is the end of my stomach bug. Therefore, we will rejoice at with a celebrity interview in near future. Stay tuned! 🙂


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