The hunt is on. “Is this the tablet we had to go round the country to find for you mum”?
We were leaving the next day to return to Dar. I had now run out of Xanax, I had been taken higher doses on holiday as it was all deeply unrelaxing. I hadn’t checked, thinking I had brought plenty with me. Oh no, I did my usual of taking my last one, before checking if I had more. I called HER. She said her pharmacy would issue the prescription and we could collect it. PHEW.
No, not that easy, even in the UK.
Hubs with kids went to collect prescription from private clinic on the other side of the town.
They wouldn’t give it to him, as he wasn’t me. They were nervous as it is strong. “She has been taking it for ages,” he shared. “She knows all about it”. Not sure if that was the best line. They decided they needed to speak to me. They couldn’t get through they told him. Where was I? At my father’s. On the loo, in the garden – who knows. I called them back immediately. I got an answer machine. I called reception I got an answer machine. I called husband. One of the kids answered, “we got it, we’re shopping and will get it later”. And then hung up.
FIVE hours later they turned up, brandishing the familiar white paper bag with the “gold bars” inside. They had tried 6 different places and ended up finally getting them in Tesco up the motorway. I felt so bad for them.
It was LOVE, wasn’t it? Or at least the knowledge, that it was equally in THEIR interests that I had that tablet that day, if they wanted their own lives to be worth living.
Back to the quote at the top. When we were back in Dar,I collected my daughter and told her we were nipping to the pharmacy as I needed to get some more Xanax. “Is this the tablet we had to go round the country to find for you mum”?
“Well yes, but county not country”.
“It felt like the country to us,” she replied.
“Fair enough”, I agreed. Who was I to be so pedantic, with my little knightettes in shining armour?