Day 1: Took my first monthly dose of osteoporosis medication as recommended by my doctor. I always obey the medical community when told to take drugs. Perhaps one day they’ll demand I take LSD and I can see what all the fuss was about in the 60’s.
Day 2: I can actually walk. The last osteoporosis medication I took turned me into a cripple within six hours so I’m so grateful I don’t have to crawl to my car and have a complete stranger carry me into the doctor’s office. How lucky am I?
Day 3: I can still walk. Yippee!! But I’m having severe chest pains. “Heart attack,” my co-worker says and off she goes to refill her coffee cup and off I go to the ER. After waiting five hours, I’m told it’s just a reaction to the medication. “Too bad it’ll stay in your system a month or longer,” the ER doc says with a chuckle and hands me a prescription for muscle relaxers.
Day 4: I check the list of side effects from the osteoporosis medication and yup, pains in your chest rank up there with side effects you need to contact your doctor about. Others such as flu-like symptoms, heartburn, complete lack of energy, memory loss, shoplifting, flirting with strangers and shouting obscenities aren’t as serious and don’t need medical attention (according to the insert).
Day 5: Muscle relaxers relieve the chest pain but I’m so weak I can barely move so I stay home from work. All I see on TV are ads for osteoporosis meds. Especially the one with the famous Oscar winning actress whose show on ABC I’m now boycotting.
Day 9: I call my doctor and tell him this osteoporosis stuff is doing me in. It takes forty-five minutes to walk from the bedroom to the kitchen and our house is only 1,000 square feet. He says it’s important to regain some of my bone loss and even though I can barely move, it’s necessary to take the drug. “If you fall you’ll break your hips,” he says. Since I’m barely able to move I’m not sure that’s possible.
Day 10: There she is again on TV preaching the osteoporosis cure all. “I doubt she really takes that stuff,” my husband says. I concur. “You like me, you really like me,” is what she’s saying all the way to the bank.
Day 11: I get a call from a nurse at my doctor’s office. They care, they really care. “The doctor wants you to try another medication.” “No way,” I say. “Don’t worry”, she says.”This one’s side effects don’t include lack of energy, heartburn, shoplifting, flirting or swearing, just blood clots,” she tells me. I call her a *%#! and hang up.
Day 13: That nurse calls again and in a sweet, syrupy tone expresses concern that I’ll fall and break my hips if I take no action. I tell her she has a sexy voice and hang up.
Day 15: Been working half days. Instead of hello, I get: You’re walking weird, did you have a stroke and can I have your printer when you’re gone.
Day 17: Still no energy but I have this urge to shop til I drop.
Day 20: No appetite because of the severe heartburn but I’ve lost twelve pounds. Great stuff if you need a quick weight loss program. Just don’t expect to include any movement with this weight loss program.
Day 23: I’ve decided to accept and embrace my brittle bones but not too strongly or they’ll break.
Day 26: Watched that show with the famous Oscar winning actress because when it boils down to it, I like her, I really like her.
Day 27: So out of it, I don’t see the cat. I trip and fall right on my… hip. EEEK! What is she doing on the floor anyway? I can actually get up and what the heck is going on… my hip ISN’T shattered in little pieces.
Day 28: Still no broken bones and it took only 15 minutes to walk from the bedroom to the kitchen.
Day 30: Ate two pieces of bread all day, instead of one. Getting my appetite back!
Day 33: I go shopping and return home with lots of items but no bags or receipts. Oh well! It’s been over a month. I feel fantastic. Bones are intact. Just not sure why there are two policemen at my front door.