I took today all your medications to the pharmacy, to dispose them..
I couldn't do it before.. Once I tried, I separated carefully all the boxes from the medications itself.. on all the boxes was your name printed.. I put everything back into the wardrobe..
Yesterday I took it all out again.. I put all the outer boxes in the recycling bin.. What was left was a big paper bag full of medications.. It was heavy to carry.. Your glucometer.. blood test strips.. insulin pen needles.. morphine.. hundreds of strips of pills... bottles of tablets.. Not needed anymore..
They told me off in the pharmacy, I should have not put the control drugs with the rest of the medications, so I started to dig in the bag to find the morphine.. All those pills, strips, jars, tubes falling through my hands.. Tears falling slowly down my face.. The woman behind the counter asked politely: 'and how is your husband?'
My husband died..
When I left the pharmacy I didn't know what to do with myself, where to go... I couldn't breathe.. I couldn't see anything through tears.. I hold the phone in a desperate need to call someone, to scream for help.. I call no one... It was you I wanted to talk with.
I walked aimlessly until it was time to pick up Oli from school. We went home. It was Father's Day today in Portugal.
I couldn't do it before.. Once I tried, I separated carefully all the boxes from the medications itself.. on all the boxes was your name printed.. I put everything back into the wardrobe..
Yesterday I took it all out again.. I put all the outer boxes in the recycling bin.. What was left was a big paper bag full of medications.. It was heavy to carry.. Your glucometer.. blood test strips.. insulin pen needles.. morphine.. hundreds of strips of pills... bottles of tablets.. Not needed anymore..
They told me off in the pharmacy, I should have not put the control drugs with the rest of the medications, so I started to dig in the bag to find the morphine.. All those pills, strips, jars, tubes falling through my hands.. Tears falling slowly down my face.. The woman behind the counter asked politely: 'and how is your husband?'
My husband died..
When I left the pharmacy I didn't know what to do with myself, where to go... I couldn't breathe.. I couldn't see anything through tears.. I hold the phone in a desperate need to call someone, to scream for help.. I call no one... It was you I wanted to talk with.
I walked aimlessly until it was time to pick up Oli from school. We went home. It was Father's Day today in Portugal.
No comments:
Post a Comment