In May I needed antibiotics for a bad cough. When I brought the prescription home from the Walgreens pharmacy and didn’t recognize the name of the generic drug on the bottle, I called the pharmacist expecting an apology for the mixup. But it turned out he had called my doctor, without notifying me before or after, to switch the prescription because I’m “allergic to cephalosporins.”
I told him I know I’m not allergic to cephalosporins because I grew up with the bubblegum medicine. You know, the delicious liquid antibiotic that’s in the same class and generation as the drug that I should have received.
Then I asked if he needed a few lessons in pharmacology. Just kidding.
So since it was a Friday night and the doctor couldn’t be reached until Monday, I was stuck with a lame broad-scope macrolide that destroys everything in your body.
What cramped my stomach worse than the macrolide was knowing that Walgreens, a glorified convenience store, decided my allergies and treatment for me. Now I’m scared that Mobile will start dressing me and 7-11 will dictate my taste in women.
To reminisce, here’s a video of a kid jonesin’ for the bubblegum medicine. They even use the same measuring spoon these days.
“What does it taste like?”
“Cannndddyy.”
And here’s a video of a kid whose taste buds are broken. He’s acting like it’s Nyquil or something.
