Zyrtec

Zyrtec is my drug of choice. 

I'm an allergy sufferer. For years I used Benadryl, but the side affects were more than I could handle.  I would take one tiny pink pill and within twenty minutes I mimicked a cheap drunk.  Slurring my words and unable to articulate a complete thought.  The room would spin, and my neck would struggle to support my heavy head. Then BAM!  I would slip into a coma for six hours.

I'd fall quickly down the rabbit hole, into the rem state. For me, there isn't any sleep like a Benadryl sleep. I think it's the closest thing to hibernating.

It seems I'm the family drug dealer for meds.  I can't remember the last time a family member visited my house and didn't need a pill or two from my medicine cabinet.  Headaches, backaches, sore throats, earaches, bug bites, you have a problem...I have a pill for it.  But Zyrtec is like gold, so I'm stingy with it.

"Nikki, do you have any allergy pills?"  my brother inquired, as he fought the urge to rub his itching eyes, sneezing repeatedly.

"Yeah, do you want a Benadryl?"  I offered.

"No...I don't want a Benadryl.  Do you have anything else?"  He asked.

I went to find something else in my medicine cabinet.  I opened the doors and saw my precious bottles of Zyrtec.  But I offered something else instead.

"Here I have a box a Claritin," I said as I handed him the box.  "It expired last month, but if you want it, you can have it."

"Oh, thanks Nik!" My brother appreciated my generous offer.