One pill makes you larger, and one pill makes you small
And the ones that mother gives you, don’t do anything at all
Go ask Alice, when she’s ten feet tall
And if you go chasing rabbits, and you know you’re going to fall
Tell ’em a hookah-smoking caterpillar has given you the call
And call Alice, when she was just small*
WHAT I DID AND DID NOT DO OVER SUMMER VACATION? I transformed into Elaine Stritch … and couldn’t help it! Here’s to the ladies who … fight.
Anybody else think the medical “industry” engages mostly in drug dispensing, bandying about the Latin names of such, trippingly off the tongue and then suggests that YOU (whoever you are) hustle back home only to return several times for no apparent (“follow-up”) reason? Asking for a friend. It appears to be common practice that you doctor yourself … but make out the checks to the drugpusherdoc anyway. Care and concern and listening are approaches of the past?
“What ails you” is keyboarded by some lady and not even read by the doc who enters and exits in record time? Side effects are never mentioned, only available if one can read the teensy print on the “instructions for use” tissue thin insert? Is it any wonder we are a drug(-ie) culture? And I say to myself, “what’s going on?” Feeling a song coming on if i can locate it … just a minute.
It seems criminal. The drug industry = piracy? And not the fun Johnny Depp/Jack Sparrow kind. Pharmaceutical side effects are what might get you landed into a hospital bed at last and the beat goes on la dee da dee da…and the money keeps rolling in. Unbelievable.
Following instincts can be quite workable. Seems getting hooks into us via the constant TV ads instilling fear about human health might be the goal. Take this. Take that. Side effects warnings and disclaimers consume nearly the entire time slot for the hypochondriacal provoking, droning commercials.
Why or how do people bite? Human gullibility amazes me. The idea is to get folks hooked and “doctoring.” Purchase meds, take them home and become dependent on them. Medicate yourself, and just check in with the busy staff and pay and pay and pay. So odd. The psychology at play not much different from snake oil days.
And, by the way, this doesn’t just apply to human doctors. I am showing this post to my cats, so that I can get some sleep some day. And, then, as they self-medicate, I can send all of the invoices of the bills we paid back to their source and sweetly request a refund? Because they did all the work themselves?
Well, I sure can figure out who is naughty or nice … about time that I got wiser! LOL.
Yup, I have been sporadically attending CAMP HELLACIOUS all damned summer, and here is a video of me. Do not be fooled by the girl called Susan. That is not me. Cary grant IS me. I swear it is the honest truth. This may be the best film clip in the entire history of mankind, and I have been in this state at Camp Hellacious for over 90 days now and holding. Oh, sh*t … AND HOLDING! Cary, I adore you now more than ever. Lordy, I do!
(As an aside, a puppy mill under any other name is still a puppy mill. May “reproduction” of any sort for profit cease forever more. A puppy mill is a puppy mill is a puppy mill! I could tell some tales. Indeed I could! May the pirates rot in hell. Again, not the cute Johnny Depp ones.)
Gotta review the situations and when dumped on way too much, gotta adjust and find somebody worthy of your loyalty … and your … $$$.
Yes, this certain “profession” often seems in over its collective head. And I have written them numerous checks over many years. Just when I want out forever, I get pulled back in. I could spit! Maybe spitting would alleviate the drowning sensation?
But they do offer zombie stares and NO compassion, alongside the prescriptions. Wackiness PERSONified! So I express myself here. That’s how it rolls among us sensitive, kind-hearted and creative. Watch out for us. We are mighty and profound, and we try our damndest to laugh at monsters. [Cue Elaine Stritch chortle.]
When the men on the chessboard get up and tell you where to go
And you’ve just had some kind of mushroom, and your mind is moving low
Go ask Alice, I think she’ll know*
*Lyrics: “White Rabbit” by Jefferson Airplane – from MetroLyrics.com