Strong medicine

By Sarge

 

Getting old sucks. I mean it stinks in many ways. Some things are becoming more and more difficult to do. Walking has slowed. Eyesight has dimmed. The singing voice has coarsened and the thought process has slowed. So, if you’re like so many people accompanying me into twilight from the limelight you’ll understand my displeasure at having to admit the volume of medicine I swallow and/or inject daily.

 

Each morning, I endure the indignity of the dreaded medication absorption process. I take six (6) pills/capsules for my heart condition and/or Type 2 Diabetes; then endure three to four Diabetes control injections dependent on the number of times I eat. Then I tolerate supplements (vitamins and minerals). My physician prescribed them, feeling my metabolic structure requires chemical balancing. For a specific period of time after this ordeal I rattle while walking as the sundry assemblage of pills, potions and encapsulated alchemical mass gyrates and collides freely in my gut. I love life and want to stay a part of it but, sometimes it’s hard work, unpleasant and more times than not, something I have to pay close attention to for survival.

 

I never believed I’d be 58 years old. It’s not a bad age. I’m glad I’ve made it this long. That was never a given with the profligate lifestyle I once lived. Eat, drink and be merry was the motto. I ignored the AMA’s (American Medical Association) caveat: “with moderation”. I wanted to be the best, the strongest, the fastest; the most hardy and heartiest and the brightest.

 

Best: I never made it. Strongest: Came close (300 pound bench press – no hernia). Fastest: capable of downing a pitcher of beer in near record time. Hardy and heartiest: Could stay awake and party for days with minimal sleep, rest and/or recovery. Brightest: Not by a long shot-billions of brain cells lay dead , scattered and littered across the battlefield my mind (and life) once was.

 

It’s a darned hard thing to cope with at this time in my life. But I must take my medicine or I’ll die. It’s as simple as that. I hate the idea, but it’s my fault. It’s much like the sorry condition this country has developed into is YOUR fault. (You read that correctly. It’s your fault; and mine, and our predecessors going back to the turn of the century.)

 

America suffers from the licentious excesses of governmental extravagance and the accumulated decadence of Progressive political policies since the early twentieth century. We’ve been told and accepted we need to stay firmly attached to mother’s breast for life. Woodrow Wilson’s patrician, paternalistic and power-hungry belief the President should lead the government and the government should control the people is where it began. Hoover tried holding the Hydra of Progressivism in check but failed. The New Deal (government jobs provided an economic roadmap out of a depression) moved the theory along with Social Security which is very insecure lately. The New Deal and the Fair Deal continued fattening the pig Eisenhower turned into a pork roast. It’s now a Raw Deal suffering a fiscal aneurysm with deficits of unforeseen magnitude. And it keeps bulging dangerously.

 

Government assistance and Welfare became an expected norm for many people. People make a living through “professional” pregnancy and dependency. Government grew from politicians supplying what the people were told they wanted. Hand-outs, bail-outs and now we endure the fall-out of it all.

 

The American Dream’s becoming a nightmare we show no signs of waking from under the present administration. We must cut government spending. Trim waste. Create jobs in the private sector. Stop outsourcing jobs overseas. If it isn’t manufactured here-DON’T BUY IT! You can’t be a consumer unless you’re a producer. It’s time to grow up, get off of Mother’s Milk and take the strong medicine necessary for survival. Recognize now, that Mother’s tired and dry and there’s no wet nurse on the horizon-just some force feeding offered by an ugly stepmother looking to control and enslave you to her way of thinking. Get off of your knees Cinderella and do it right.

 

We must take our strong, unsavory medicine to get well.

 

Thanks for listening

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