The Migraine Fairy visits my head about 15 times a year. The Really Bad Headache Gnome appears about 40-50 times a year. Because of this, I typically put Excedrin Migraine botttles in just about every room in my house.
I am kind of like a closet alcoholic that way. But instead of stashing Vodka bottles in boots, I sprinkle my happy little gel capsules around like fairy dust. I need them handy for whenever that unforgiving vice grips my temples and magnifies its intensity through that most dastardly of all sounds: Caillou.
Imagine my surprise when the well finally ran dry and I went to CVS to get more. Apparently, my favorite drug has been recalled since January (see Wall Street Journal story). Thanks for the memo, Excedrin people. I've been downing the stuff like candy for months without the slightest hint of anything being askew. I could have been sucking down arsenic for all I knew.
Which leads me to today. I was in dire need of migraine relief when I ran to the store to grab something, anything, to numb the pain. I settled on this:
That's right. I bought the generic. If that wasn't bad enough, the stuff had about the same impact on my head as a couple of baby aspirin.
So I'm turning to my second favorite cure: Mike's Hard Lemonade. And if I do end up hiding Vodka bottles in boots one day, please tell those Excedrin people it was all their fault.
Well, maybe not all.