A long long time ago, when I was young and the music used to make me smile, I announced to my mom that I thought modern medicine is/was for suckers and that pills were killing us as a species and really, we should just let ourselves either LIVE or DIE.
My mother, in a moment of utter her-ness, looked at me slowly from her wheelchair and said, "You realize I'd be dead, right? And you wouldn't exist?"
I probably began arguing something about the way my great-grandmother survived her appendix bursting and severe blood poisoning without even penicillin in the 'teens. I probably had the sense to stop talking then.
Today I want all the meds I can get. But I really want to know which one is giving me a rash on the backs of my hands.