How Many Vitamins Are Enough?

 I take too many vitamins and supplements. But I'm not an addict – no, not me. Of course, I'm not. I can quit anytime I want – oh yeah. I could quit tomorrow; I could. However, then I would have to pour all those pills down the drain. They could then find their way into the water supply and end up killing an innocent kid. I would feel bad, and it would be embarrassing to see a headline reading "Cute Kid Dies from Vitamin D Poisoning”, with my picture below it.

I don't know how I ended up taking so many pills; I guess a junkie would say the same thing. My medicine cabinet is full of brown and green bottles, as is the shelf below. There is a tote bag for the overflow. I'm not an addict, although my coworkers used to stare at me with astonishment as I gulped my noontime stash. They would try to joke about it, I wanted to give a witty reply, but all I could do was stare back with the hollow eyes of a wayward soul needing a fix. 

Of course, it all started with just a multivitamin - a wonder pill of this modern world, and thus a gateway capsule. Take this magical pill with the minimum daily requirement of 30 vitamins and minerals, and you just might live forever. If lest ye don't, you will surely die. However, once you buy into the concept that a pill can enhance your health, they've got you.

Your heart could suddenly stop – so take this.

Your pancreas may be about to burst – so use this one.

Your prostate is growing to enormous proportions – stop it before it protrudes outside your body.

You add pills willingly until the pill bottles cover your world. You celebrate the arrival of the vitamin and supplement mailer like you did the J.C. Penney Christmas catalog as a child. You know you're an addict when you take so many pills you can’t remember what they are supposed to fix. That's how I know I'm not an addict because I can clearly articulate the purpose of each supplement. Sure, I may have to look a few up, but that's beside the point. Obviously, all these pills are working because I'm still alive, and you can't see my protruding prostate – unless you look at a precise angle.

I do take solace in the fact that I only take a few of the supplements in the 164-page catalog my pusher, whoa – I mean that vitamin company, sends me every month. I trust that many people take far more supplements than I do. Those are the real addicts! I think the cut-off point is the number of vitamins I currently take. So, if you take one more supplement than I do, you are most definitely an addict and are really a messed-up nutjob.

I used to laugh at Ponce De Leon trying to find the Fountain of Youth, but not anymore. Now, I have found the Fountain of Perpetual Life. It is the faucet in my bathroom from which I draw water to wash down this myriad of pills intended to help me live forever. However, that whole goal seems rather silly. Why would I want to live in this place forever? Face it, the world is getting worse, not better. In my opinion, the world was going great until around 1999, when it began to decline. Now, we are going to hell in a handbasket. However, I don't know how you could go anywhere in a handbasket since it does not have wheels or a source of propulsion. This means someone would have to carry you into hell, which doesn't seem very likely since they would then be walking into hell themselves. So yeah, life on Earth peaked in 1999, and if you were born after that, well, tough noogies.

No, I don’t tell my doctor how many supplements I take. He has way too many other problems to deal with. And I’m healthy, so why does he need to know anyway? I mean, just because he has the ability to recommend I see a psychiatrist or some other whack job who might cut me off from some of the vitamins and supplements that are keeping me alive. What’s the point in that? Besides, it would take much too long for me to document every tablet.

Over the last couple of years, I have reduced the number of vitamins and supplements I take. Incredibly, I am still alive. Of course, this is akin to reverse Russian Roulette, not knowing if the next pill I eliminate was the critical one that was keeping me alive. I am continually tempted by new supplements popping up on my computer. Just today, an ad for what I thought was an “SOB Booster” appeared. I rejected it because many people think I am already a huge SOB. It turned out to be for some antioxidants called SOD boosters. I was also intrigued by a new NAD+ supplement, hoping it would invigorate my nads, but it is really intended to slow cellular aging.

In reality, I am reducing my intake because the perceived value of the pills to extend my life diminishes every day. Sadly, there is now less life to preserve. In addition, it will become more challenging to remember to take all these pills as my memory diminishes. Also, the number of my critical prescription drugs will increase and take precedence over these speculative vitamins and supplements.

The main challenge in my final years will be to remember to take my prescription drugs every day. They do have those weekly pill boxes to help you remember, that I have chuckled at my entire life, wondering who would be that stupid to need one. Now, I know, and will soon rely on that contraption to save my life.

Instead of the pill box, I would much prefer having a private nurse responsible for administering my medication. Perhaps, a young Swedish one, named Inga. The Swedes did so well handling COVID that I would be in very capable hands, especially if she pranced around in one of those flashy nurses' outfits featured in costume stores at Halloween.

If that were the case, I might be tempted to bang her if I were able to get my doctor to add Viagra to my prescription list. However, that would be risky to my health. Many men have, unfortunately, shared their literal deathbed with a much younger woman. So, maybe that pill box is the best solution.