Overdose

 One busy day, about ten years ago, while I was working at Kohl's Department Store in Durham, NC (where you can expect great things), I was suffering from a bad cough.  As such, I took some over-the-counter cough syrup.  However, I misread the instructions.  I took twice the proper dosage.

I was walking around the store when the result of my mistake hit me...like a ton of bricks.  I felt incredibly weak...like I wanted to collapse on the floor.  I leaned against a counter for support.

I told my supervisor I wasn't feeling well and needed a break.  I went to rest in the employees' room.  There I re-read the instructions and realized what I had done.  In some minutes, I felt better.  Never do that again.

But, I had done that before.  When I was first diagnosed with ulcerative colitis in 1966, my doctor told me I needed to take 8 pills a day to deal with my symptoms.   And as my illness was chronic, I would have to take pills for the rest of my life.  Bummer!

Taking pills had previously been a problem for me.  When I was a child and needed to take aspirin for a headache, my mother would dissolve a pill in a spoonful of water for me to be able to ingest it.

Thinking about what my doctor told me, I decided to use illogical reasoning to fix my condition.  If 8 pills were good, then 16 would be better and perhaps eradicate my ulcerative colitis...permanently.  

A few days later I started feeling bad and returned to my doctor.  He of course asked how I was dealing with the 8 pills a day.  I told him what I had done.  

My doctor berated me in no uncertain terms and told me to stick to the prescribed amount.  I learned my lesson.  Never again.  Maybe!