I hit a milestone in my life last week.

It’s not something I was looking forward to necessarily, but it’s a milestone nonetheless. Now, I know what you’re thinking: The old man just made his first million!

Nope, still about a million short!

This milestone is something different, and I think I actually achieved it at an age younger than most people do, so that might be something I can brag about.

I’m going to let you in on the big secret: I officially hit the stage of my life where I have to take one drug because I take a different drug. You know what I mean? You always see these older folks with their day-of-the-week pill things, each with a handful of whatever they need that certain day. I just remember a woman who I used to work with would lug her pill container with her to work on a daily basis.

“I take this for arthritis. I take this for blood pressure. I take this because I’ve got a little diabetes. And this one I have to take because I take that one for blood pressure,” she explained.

I actually think that if she would have laid off the Pall Mall filterless cigarettes, she wouldn’t have had to take any of them, but who was I to intervene?

I’ve heard similar tales from people through the years, the other crowd of folks who take things because of other things they take.

Hey, guys, I’m in the club! I’m hoping to not be for long, but this week I’m in it and next week I’m in it too. Are there any perks besides being in the frequent buyer club at the pharmacy? Do we have parties, or are we in this club because we had too many parties?

I’m actually in it for kind of a dumb reason. Most of my injuries and maladies have been because of some stupid, stubborn reason or another.

I’ve ended up in the hospital twice because of various forms of the flu that I ignored too long: one stomach and one the other kind where I held the dubious honor of recording the highest adult fever – in modern times at least – at Hartford Memorial Hospital. Some antibiotics, and I was home the next day. I’ve had various other injuries. I sanded off the end of my finger a few years back and am due for two knee and one hip replacement, so my marathon running days are over. I wanted to be that guy who could get across the finish line at age 80, but that dream was dashed 50 lbs. and a knee surgery ago.

Last week, I’m pretty sure I almost ended up with another ER visit. I had scraped my leg somehow. I don’t even recall how, actually. It happened over the weekend, and on Monday I noticed it hurt. A close inspection revealed a pretty nasty infection. Here’s the problem: I knew it was bad enough that I had to get my newspapers on the press before I went to the doctor, in case they kept me. So, I wasn’t able to go for medical care for another day so you could read your weekly newspaper on time.

And that bought me my ticket to the club! I’m now on two super-strength antibiotics. I have a couple other rules that came along with the prescriptions. I have to also take another pill because of all the antibiotics. So, I’m in the club!

And just my luck, by governor’s orders, there can be no club meetings right now. I’ll check back in with the members next time I end up in this situation. For now, I’ll only be taking one thing because I have to take another thing for about 10 more days.