Today the delivery guy brought me my first bottle of 15 mg Revlimid pills. The 25 mg pills were plain white capsules. The 15 mg pills, though, are a jazzy combo of teal and white. This is fabulous. I say, if you have to take cancer medication, it might as well be pretty.
Here, a crowd of curious onlookers stops to admire my attractive new pills:
Every month, before the pharmacy can ship me my pills, I have to talk to a pharmacist who goes over the long list of Revlimid Rules with me. I am not to donate to a blood bank, I am not to share my medication with anyone (Who would do this? And why?), and I am not to open or crush the capsules. Of course, after hearing this month after month, I am always incredibly tempted to open the capsules. If the pharmacists hadn't given me this instruction, I wouldn't even think about it, but they have planted the seed in my mind. Some nights I think I can barely stand it if I don't open the capsule and look inside. I swallow it quickly before I can give in to the urge. What is in there? What? Since the pills cost about $400 each, I dare not open one. But I will always wonder.