By Sue Murphy
I’m not much for medications. Catastrophic illness aside, I hold fast to the idea that a hot bath, a bracing cup of tea and a couple extra hours rest on the couch can usually turn things around.
Come spring, however, when the twirly little seed pods cover my driveway and that sticky green pollen is everywhere, my respiratory system goes into high revulsion alert and I have to go to my GP for pharmaceutical reinforcements.
She doesn’t give me anything big, just your garden (or anti-garden) variety nasal spray. But, I have to tell you, the first time I picked up the prescription at the pharmacy, I wondered if I shouldn’t just give the tea/bath/couch thing another chance. You see, being the chronic Goodie-two-shoes that I am, I made the mistake of thoroughly reading the information sheet tucked inside the box.
Now, I know that drug manufacturers get sued more than even Wal-Mart and McDonald’s, so I understand the need to transfer as much of the decision-making responsibility onto the patient’s shoulders as possible. But this was more than I had bargained for, even with my measly little copay. There were 500 words of warning … for a nasal spray.
There was a chance that I could have an allergic reaction. My throat could close, my chest could go tight, I could have trouble breathing. My body might be covered in welts, my tongue might swell, I might experience a sudden deterioration of my vision.
Drugs are not darts. They don’t have pinpoint ailment accuracy. They go into your system and just kind of meander around, and like a 2-year-old in a china shop, they can create all kinds of havoc. These little accidents are lovingly referred to as “side effects.” Pick up any magazine. For every one-page drug ad, there are two full pages of things that can go horribly wrong, but I’m guessing most people don’t read that bit. They make a mental note of the drug’s name and move right on to that month’s recipe for lemon meringue pie.
When you see drug ads on TV, however, the side effects are presented right along with the pie. Oh sure, they show you the nice lady who can now enjoy the pie because of the wonder drug she’s taken and, all the while, a calm, pleasant voice tells you about all of the ways the drug might mistakenly cause a person to never eat pie again. The commercials always end with, “Ask your doctor about ZippidyDoosamab” and, if you’re still thinking about the pie, you say, “Sounds good.” But if you are really paying attention, you have to be thinking, “Um, maybe not.”
There are wonder drugs out there for certain, but you have to wonder about the mechanics of it all. How can a medication bring on both constipation and diarrhea? How can it simultaneously help ease your clinical depression and cause you to have increased thoughts of suicide? If it’s supposed to strengthen your bones, why is there a chance that it could cause a surprise break in your femur?
If the medication is something you really need, you have to just close your eyes (check your vision first) and take a chance, hoping that you will be one of the lucky ones for whom the drug just goes in, does its job and leaves the rest of you alone.
For the record, my nasal spray worked out just fine, although I have to tell you, I read through the eye chart every once in a while, just to be on the safe side.
