All pharmacy staff has seen this before:
Old man/lady comes in weekly (or even three times weekly), picks up a bottle (or 4) of the familiar green bottle of Magnesium Citrate, and happily does god only knows with it. Rinse and repeat for the next 10 years. For those non-pharmacy types: Mag Citrate is a yucky tasting laxative that comes in a very distinctive green bottle. Its best shotgunned all at once while very cold (so it tastes like buttcrack instead of ass). In school we wanted to do the “Mag Citrate Challenge” where contestants each chug a bottle of mag citrate, and the last one to crap themselves loses.
What is the issue with old people being obsessed with their poop? Does being old make very simple things magical? “Martha! Come look at this! I’m growing a brown tail! Loo-… awww.. It fell off onto the floor”.
I cant explain it. I mean, I enjoy taking a good dump (its when I get to sit and relax during work!), but i’m not going to run into my pharmacist in a panic if my brown babies arent birthed at the same time each day. Here are some horror stories from the pharmacy:
Its mind boggling. You would think that older folks would have something else to focus their mind on. Like watching Dallas or Jag reruns. Hell, watching Golden Girls reruns is better than dreaming of your next bowel movement (not by much though). I guess I wont understand until I hit that magical age of 90.
Just as a side note, I pointed my dear parents to this blog some time ago. They loved the last rant involving poop so much they printed it out and hung it on their fridge. I swear, they never put my report card on the fridge, but the’ll put some poorly worded banter on how people dig through their poop looking for things on their friggin fridge. Guess the apple doesnt fall far from the tree.