The human female has been trying to get more help for her headaches. She has a medicine that works, but the Medical Powers That Be will only dole out a small handful of tablets per month. She got excited the other day, because while she was dealing with Former Squish Fonts (FSF) about the other prescription, she saw on the site a big announcement, “Get your headache medicine in a 3-months’ supply!” and she clicked, “Yes, please!” Well, I saw to it that that went nowhere. No way can the FDA let her have that many tablets in her possession, and no way can I let her get what she needs. Request denied!
However, there is some hope. Recently, the human female visited a neurologist, who suggested that the human female could benefit from having alternative medications to use in rotation. She sent the human female home with a couple of samples.
Great Frigga’s Hairpins! The human female has been doing Botany and has a pretty bad headache right now. It seems like a good time to try one of the new meds, doesn’t it, Sigyn?
“Nurtec”. “Rimegepant.” Sounds like they’re just reaching a hand in a bag of Scrabble letters for the names of these things, doesn’t it? Let’s open the box.
I think the outside box is just a sleeve for…
…the inside box! Human, how many trees died for this?!
The inner box is stuffed full of literature, along with a third box.
I’ve always been amused by the human propensity for stating the obvious. “Don’t take this stuff if you are allergic to it.” But how will the human female know if she’s allergic if she’s never taken it before? I guess if she takes it and dies we know she was allergic? Welcome to Pharmaceutical Roulette!
So now we get to the box with the actual sample tablets.
It has instructions. Not for how to take the medicine. For how to get this package open. This is the part of the packaging I helped the manufacturer with…
It’s like some sadistic, super-complicated pop-up book. Just what someone with a headache wants! Press button A and pull tab B. You hold the button down, Sigyn, and I’ll pull.
Behold the Rimegepant! Or getting there, anyway. We’ve still a bit more to do. Only two of those blisters have tablets, and we still have to get one out.
Peeeeling back the foil…
Now behold the precious Rimegepant! (Sniff, sniff) Smells like peppermint. Here you go, human. Take your medicine and quit whining.
(Thirty minutes, one hour, two hours later…) Now we get to the best part of my mischief:
The stupid stuff doesn’t work.