G Krud

GK has the crud. She’s coughing, wheezing and snotty and it’s mostly in the morning, when she first wakes up, and I’m the first one she sees. So today, after school, Kristy took her to the doctor and the doctor prescribed an inhaler and steroids, keeping her from competing in the Tour de France, but in no way impeding her entry into Major League Baseball.

Is there anything harder than seeing one of your children sick or hurting? Who among parents would not rather be sick themselves than have to worry about their five-month-old’s coughing and crying? So I stopped by the Walgreen’s to pick up her prescription after work and was given a few bags, which I took home. Naturally, because I can’t be trusted with any sort of take-out, whether it be cleaning supplies or food, what I was given was wrong. The inhaler was for an adult and not the mask that is more appropriate for small children. I took the inhaler back for an exchange, which took an inordinate amount of time. I waited nearly 20 minutes even though there was no one ahead of me and I wasn’t exchanging actual medicine. I was exchanging the means of conveyance for medicine into her mouth. It was as though I was buying a spoon, but had to wait for approval. But I digress. The child-sized inhaler, it turns out, would cost $25 more than the adult-sized inhaler, bringing the total to $45 for something that, again, is not actual medicine. Exorbitant, you say? I agree. Yet here are the pharmacists, extorting money from me for my child’s health. What am I going to say in that situation? “No, that’s too much money for my baby to be well.” Of course not. So they’ve got you. They got me. But I got the medicine GK needed and I hope it helps. And I hope that tomorrow a major drug manufacturer comes into my cigar shop and really, really wants a cigar. It will cost him $45.