Day 1:
I got a prescription for Truvada. Over the next few posts, I'll become very honest with the zero people that read this blog.
This was Wednesday, March 18:
I picked up my prescription today. I could have had it dropped off. I told the pharmacist(who has been more than helpful), "no need, it's on my way home." I was simultaneously thinking, I need to find out where this place is anyway. How convenient is that though?
I walk in, a nice man comes to the counter to assist me. I say while smiling "I'm here to pick-up my prescription." He asks for my name. After a brief and slightly awkward exchange, he asks for my signature. As I'm signing I notice how nice the electronic signature pads are compared to grocery stores. He hands me my prescription, no charge. I say "thank you," with a smile and walk out. I sit in the car and think, "this is real, I have a prescription, and a need for it." How adult.
I can only relate to kids when they get new toys and presents. I tear into the packaging, reading all instructions, opening and inspecting every aspect of it. All the while thinking, "How adult." It's laughable. A shortlist of stigmas flash in my head concerning those who take Truvada as either a preventative or as viral suppressant. I always worry about what people will think of me ( a post for another time), but I take risks.
As a risk taker, it would be irresponsible of me to not take it. In a matter of 10 seconds I said to myself, "Fuck what people think."
Inside the package, there was a pill-box, the bottle, instructions, standard pharmacy boilerplate, and a travel key-chain container. I read all instructions, what can I say, I'm a sucker for useless/useful new knowledge. I examine the bottle. It reads in big bold letters, "Take one by mouth." I ignore the HIPAA boilerplate. I flashback to the doctors office when I see the pill-box. She seemed overly concerned that I wouldn't be "med compliant." As an aside, I am using the pill-box, but not because I'm worried about forgetting or missing.
The key-chain, metallic, with Gilead's symbol etched into it. A rubber o-ring, with a twist off cap attached to a keyring, which further has a small chain attached to it. On the chain a card, "compliments of Gilead." The other side, "Helping you stay on treatment." It's a curious container, I'm still not sure what to do with it. Put it on my key chain? Wear it as a necklace? Keep it stashed in my car? It's a curious new piece in my life. Secretly, I want to show the world and have it as a symbol of pride. In reality, I'm "private" and selfish about these things. I like that it's my little secret and I don't have to share it.
I acknowledge my surroundings for a second, I'm sitting in my car, in public, investigating my prescription. #weirdo I notice a Smoothie King in front of me. Perfect, I'm parched and I'm hungry. I immediately look at the nutrition details and pick the item with the least amount of sugar coupled with the most protein. I continue to sit and drink the smoothie in my car.
I think, might as well start now. Suddenly, the list of symptoms flashes through my head. The doctors voice echoing, "if they happen, they can last anywhere from a week to a month." I hope I'm not the small percentage that suffers from the symptoms. I break the foil on the prescription bottle, a anti-
moisture capsule is in there. I move it to the side and inspect one of the pills. These are by no means small pills. Without another thought, down it goes, in a slurry of protein shake.
