Maria and I both got  hit with wicked colds last night and were up coughing and sneezing through the dawn. In our town, when we get sick, we call Bridget O’Hearn, our independent pharmacist, she answers the phone herself. “We are sick and coughing,” I said. “Come on over,” she said, after asking a few questions about congestion, etc.

We drove right over – it is five minutes away – and Bridget was waiting with a bunch of  stuff, from Fisherman’s Friend drops to anti-cough tablets. She reminded me that I can’t take decongestants because of my heart medications (I didn’t know that) and she sensed right away that Maria doesn’t like to take any kind of pills at all.

She gave us good advice, prepared a relief kit for us, chatted about her work and ours, and sent us home. It is a remarkable gift to have an independent pharmacist, there are few left. She knows her patients very well, she always has time to talk and explain medications and insurance issues. I remember when I left the hospital after my heart surgery, we called her from the hospital room with a fistful of prescriptions and she told us to stop by her house on the way home, she would get them all filled and ready by morning.

I can’t count how many times I have called her for help and she has always been there, and instantly. Maria is conked out on the sofa, I’m going to give some writing a shot. I thought of asking Red to feed the animals, but I thought it would be a stretch, even for him.