Wouldn't a gun be easier?

I'm finally emerging from my Week O' Illness. This time last week, I was still riddled with fever and printing out instructions from my insurance company on what I was supposed to do if a trip to the emergency room should be necessary. God, I long for the olden days, before HMOs, when you just went to a doctor or an emergency room when you were sick - no preauthorizations or your insurance company refusing to pay for things, etc. The person with medical education simply decided what needed to be done, they did it, you paid your portion of it, insurance paid the rest, and you went on your way. But like several other things in my life, those days are gone forever, never to return.

Luckily, a trip to medical professionals did not become necessary. The whole family did become involved, though. My parents came and took me to their house, so I wouldn't die alone like that guy in New York, where no one noticed for a year. And my cousin, who is not a doctor, but does have medical education, gave us some pointers on how to get my fever down and at what point we should venture into the Illegal Alien Free Clinic (also known as the hospital emergency room). We were able to get my fever down on Sunday (with one more bout of it that night), and from then on, it's just been a slow recovery from the other symptoms.

I attribute my survival of this ordeal to "Tylenol Cold and Flu Severe Nighttime Liquid with Instant Cool Burst Sensation." Probably you could shorten the name. It's a little rough going down - I felt a lot like Lucy in the Vitameatavegimin commercial. My dad laughed at me. But I give it its full due. It was the most effective medication of everything I put in my body during all this. In part, it was so effective because it contains pseudoephedrine HCI. You know what that is - it's Sudafed before the meth addicts ruined it for everyone by using that drug to produce their poison, creating an "epidemic" of toothless losers, causing the government to pull pseudoephedrine from the shelves (can you still get it if you wait in line at the pharmacy and ask the pharmacist for some?), stranding those of us with debilitating congestion. Bastards.

Apparently, my mom had bought this bottle before all that happened, so it had the good stuff in it, and unlike the decongestant that's now on the shelves as a substitute for pseudoephedrine, this stuff actually works. The effect is that not only do I feel better physically after I use it, but I get all the madder at the stupid meth addicts for making it harder for those of us who need it to get it. If you're that determined to destroy yourself (and clearly you are or you wouldn't be smoking that shit), couldn't you just blow your brains out? Meth is a slow way to go, and it just causes problems for the rest of us, so wouldn't you like a nice pistol instead - maybe a shotgun? They don't sell guns or ammunition at H-E-B, Walgreen's or CVS (not even here in Texas), so your desire to die would in no way interfere with my desire to breathe. I really think this could work for all of us.

I suppose this may seem harsh to some. Mass suicide for meth addicts so I can have the original formulation of Sudafed right there on the drug aisle, where I don't have to speak to anyone to make my purchase (they have self-checkout lanes now). But when you're on Day 9 of Respiratory Ailment with Congestion, Cough and Headache with only marginally effective over-the-counter medication, I'll bet you'll be jumpin' on this bandwagon. You think you're nicer than me and all sympathetic and caring, but trust me. By Day 9, you just want some pseudoephedrine on the shelf.