Hello dear readers,
Embarking on a journey of recovering and adjusting after being diagnosed with kidney failure and experiencing a stroke, one of the first tasks I embraced was refilling my pillbox, a responsibility my loving wife initially shouldered. Medicine became routine in the dawning days of this journey, marking my mornings and nights with the regularity of a ticking clock. It was my wife who, with tender care, refilled the pillbox and managed the reordering of the medicines as the need arose.
As the weeks unfolded and I became more acclimated to being back in the familiar surroundings of our home, I began assisting my wife with this task. With keen eyes and an attentive mind, I observed her process, anticipating the day I would take on this responsibility. My wife, the pillar of support she’s always been, patiently guided me and watched as I took tentative steps in managing my medication.
After observing her meticulous process for a few weeks, it was my turn to step into the spotlight. My wife watched as I took the reins, and upon being satisfied with my proficiency, she entrusted me with this task, allowing me the freedom to manage it on my own schedule. Thursdays suited me best for this task. The reason being, while refilling, I could assess if any prescriptions needed replenishment. Placing an order on Thursday meant we could conveniently pick up the medicines from the pharmacy over the weekend.
My strategy to ensure the accurate refilling of my pillbox is methodical yet straightforward. I begin by emptying the small storage box containing the myriad of medicine bottles. As I allocate a pill from each bottle into the designated day compartment of the pillbox, I return the bottle to its abode in the storage box, continuing this process until each bottle has been attended to. The final step in my routine involves a swift count of the pills in each compartment before sealing them securely. This meticulous count ensures that no pill has found its way into the wrong compartment, maintaining the order crucial for my health.
Over the past couple of years, this process has seen only minimal changes. The most notable difference is the shift in the pharmacy we use and our preference for delivering the medicines to our doorstep. This convenient service means our weekends are no longer marked by trips to the pharmacy, allowing us more leisurely time together.
The journey through stroke recovery and managing kidney failure has been marked by adaptation and learning. Taking over the responsibility of refilling my pillbox has been a significant step towards independence, symbolizing my ability to manage aspects of my care. While the routine is simple, it signifies a triumph, a small victory in my journey toward autonomy and well-being.
I hope to inspire and encourage others to navigate similar paths by sharing this. The road to recovery and adjustment is paved with small victories, each step marking progress and growth. Here’s to celebrating every achievement, no matter how small, and embracing the journey with hope and resilience.