The Price of Mindlessness

This morning, with my mind rambling in multiple directions, I walked over to my box of weekly medications and dumped the Monday morning pills in my hand. Seconds before tossing them in my mouth I thought, “What are you doing?! It’s a half hour early.” So I went back to the pill box to drop the small pile back in. As I did, something triggered in the back of my brain. There weren’t enough pills there.

I peered into my hand and focused my foggy brain on the task at hand – my primary transplant antirejection meds weren’t in the mix. With a panic, it dawned on me that my husband had picked up the prescription refill over the weekend and I hadn’t added the pills to the mix. I carefully, and mindfully, opened the new bottle and counted out the pills into the daily sections for the week. A dangerous bullet was gratefully dodged.

Today I remind myself of the potentially life-threatening price of mindlessness. We hear a lot these days about distracted driving, but the real threat is distracted living.


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