I need my pills

My stomach has been in knots for three days now. That can only mean one thing: a visit with the family is forthcoming.

I've never been a believer of self-medication, or even medication for that fact. I grew up in a household where aspirin, Coca-Cola, and/or an ace bandage would fix any ailment.

For example:

Right before Thanksgiving break my freshman year of college, my RA found me passed out in the hallway in our dorm. After one look at me, she said she was going to drive me to the emergency room.

She walked me into my room and I grabbed my coat and I stopped to phone my mother to let her know where I was going. "Don't go," she says. "It'll be a waste of money. Just wait and go to the health center in the morning."

I looked at my RA, "My mom won't let me go." She gave me a disapproving look, helped me into bed, and promised to come back in the morning to drive me to the campus health center.

At the health center the doctor took my temperature and looked grim. "You have a temp of 104, how long have you been this sick?"

"A couple of days now," and I began to cry over the validation of not feeling well.

"Don't worry, you're brain doesn't start melting until it hits 106." And I began to cry harder.

He took one look at my throat and disappeared. After a few minutes he came back with a younger man and a camera. The doctor wanted to document my case because he said he's never seen tonsillitis that severely before. I remember lying on the paper-lined bed crying and he shushes me while running his hand down the back of my head. He turned to the guy with the camera and said, "I'm going to get a published off of this!"

I spent my Thanksgiving break undergoing surgery. At the children's hospital of course, because my mother said it was cheaper. I was 19 and in a room with bunny rabbits and teddy bears. All the nurses laughed at me when they saw my age. They mockingly asked me if I wanted the "goofy juice" before the surgery like they gave the 5-year-old I was sharing the room with.

After surgery, my mother refused to accept any of my pain prescriptions because she said I would get addicted. The doctors argued with her, saying that there was more damage then they had originally thought and that I would need something to help me manage the pain. She took the prescription, but refused to fill it.

However, the idea of spending four days with my family makes me want to pack my flask and a bottle of Tylenol PM. Thanksgiving 2006: my self-medication fix. Anyone know where I can score some Valium?

I've been fighting with my mother since Friday. For the past 20 years, I've always split Thanksgiving and Christmas into two, spending half a day with my mother and driving across the state and spending half with my father. My mother calls on Friday and says she wants to drive out of town for Thanksgiving to see her parents and she wants me to go with her.

"But Dad told me Thanksgiving was at six o'clock over six weeks ago."

"So?"

"So I don't feel comfortable that you're asking this of me. The day has always been split in half since I was 5. That's just how it's been. And now you're asking me to go with you. I feel like you're making me choose between my parents."

"Tough. You're grandparents are getting old, you know. Your father will understand."

I just told her how I felt and she said "Tough?" I tried again.

"I feel like you're sticking me in the middle of this and that's not fair. It's not fair for you to put me in this position and it's not fair to make me choose."

To which she said, (I'm not kidding here) "Your generation should be used to it by now."

And that's where I lost it and the hollering commenced. I don't respond well to bullying. It makes me want to do the exact opposite of what's being demanded of me. And it sure as hell doesn't make me want to spend a total of 16 hours in the car with my mother. I have no idea what I'm going to do about Thursday.

I got on-line and checked my bank account, no there weren't enough funds to blow off the family and go to Costa Rica. But sure as shit, that's the plan for next year.

Thanksgiving 2007: Costa Rica heaven.