This afternoon I went to a natural health food store in search of vitamins to heal my sinus infection and wanted to slit my wrists within two minutes of walking in the door. You know how employees try to be helpful. Well, the lady working the front desk started asking all these questions. What seems to be the problem? What’s wrong with you? So I told her about my sinus infection, and she was off and running, picking up bottles of anti-allergy pills and probiotics. “But we need to get to the root of the problem,” she said. “It’s probably your house. I had one lady whose house was filled with mold. Maybe that’s your problem–you’re house sick.”

“Well, I’ve lived in three different houses in the last year and have been sick in every one of them, so I don’t think that’s it.”

Then she started talking about the need for regular elimination. I thought, I swear, I just met this person, and she’s already talking about my bowel movements. “That’s not a problem,” I said. “I’m very regular.” Refusing to quit, she picked up a book about fasting that looked like it came over on the Mayflower. “I was just reading about what a miracle fasting is–it’ll even cure asthma.” I’m pretty sure I rolled my eyes. “That’s perfect–just don’t eat.”

“Exactly,” she said.

Well–thank god–another customer asked for her help, and that gave me a chance to breathe. Y’all, I hope I’m not coming across like a total ass, but I get so frustrated with “those people” who work at health food stores. I mean, not all of them, but you know the ones–the ones who walk around with their noses in the air because their underwear is made out of hemp and they haven’t eaten a donut since Carter was president. Like, this lady asked me about my diet and actually said, “You don’t eat dairy, DO YOU?” I mean, I’m all for cutting out certain foods to be healthier, and I’ll be the first to admit that I diet for vanity, but don’t act like you’re better than me because you don’t put milk in your organic coffee.

Since I actually showed up with a list of products suggested in the sinus book I’ve been reading, I looked around the store for a while. The main product I was looking for was a particular type of garlic, since garlic is supposed to be a natural antibiotic and anti-fungal. Well, the store didn’t have it. “But we have all these other types of garlic right over here,” the lady said. “I have one customer who swears by fenugreek and thyme. Now where did THAT bottle go? We must be out–I’ll call our supplier.”

“You don’t have to,” I said, “I’m not going to buy it. I’m really more interested in the garlic.”

She picked up the phone. “We’ll need some eventually.”

Frustrated on every level, I left the store. I guess part of it was that I’ve spent so much time and money in stores like that one over the years. Everyone promises their favorite product will help you, and when you’re sick, you’ll believe anything. Cod liver oil is different than snake oil, right? Oh, it’s not? That’s okay, you can still have my money. Sadly, most the things I’ve purchased haven’t made a dramatic difference. Y’all, I didn’t set out to be such a cynic. But–honestly–I’ve had dozens upon dozens of sinus infections over the last twenty years–I’ve been sick with this sinus infection for six weeks–don’t tell me I’d suddenly be better if I squirted grapefruit seed extract up my nose. (I’ve already tried that.) Also, the last thing I need is for a total stranger to judge me for going to a medical doctor by saying, “You took an antibiotic?!”

As if being sick were my fault because I did.

For a while I considered driving to Fayetteville to look for that specific brand of garlic, then I considered ditching the whole project and ordering everything online. But something said go to The Vitamin Shoppe, so that’s what I did. Y’all, it was perfect. The girl behind the counter said hello but didn’t once ask if she could help. Rather, she left me alone for an entire hour, during which I consulted the list on my phone, looked around the shelves, and decided what to do. During the process, I calmed down about the lady at the other place and decided I didn’t have to have that one brand of garlic. I thought, I’m just going to do the best I can. Besides, this isn’t magic–it’s magnesium.

When it was all said and done, I had eight bottles of stuff, give or take. Thankfully, except for the Vitamin C, it was all cheaper than I’d anticipated, and some of it was even on sale for Black Friday. Still, I was a bit overwhelmed by all the bottles (I’ve done it again–I’m one of those people), so I swung by Walmart on the way home to get a pill caddy to organize everything. (I also swung by my aunt’s to do some odd jobs and took the above photo with her dog, Nick.) Anyway, you know what kind of pill caddy I’m talking about–the color-coded kind for every day of the week, the kind both my parents have that I’ve previously looked down upon.

Well shit. Now I’m one of THOSE PEOPLE too.

When I got home I organized my pill caddy and watched The National Dog Show by Purina with my parents. (It’s a sexy life, but someone’s gotta live it.) As of ten minutes ago, I’ve taken two fists full of vitamins, and I’m currently convinced I wasted my money this afternoon. I don’t feel a bit better. I mean, I’m hopeful, but what if this doesn’t work either?

This morning my friend Elisabeth sent me a beautiful devotion about not beating yourself when you get sick. It quoted the writer Flannery O’Connor as referring to her battle with lupus as “one of God’s mercies.” To me this means that seen correctly, a challenge can be a great teacher. This afternoon my dad spoke with a long-lost family friend and found out he’d been paralyzed from the chest down. When it first happened our friend was bitter, but he told my dad that prayer had become really important to him. Now he says, “If I had to choose between prayer and having my legs back, I’d choose prayer.” So even as I get irritated with store clerks and swallowing fists full of vitamins, I’m trying to remember that we all have our difficulties and teachers. What’s more, I’m reminded that bodies are fickle mistresses–they give and they take away. But I do believe that some things are more faithful than that, or at least give more than a body every could.