THOMAS KLODOWSKY Mechanisms of Action

I. Amlodipine Besylate

You don't feel right today. The fast-graying hair on your head just isn't sitting the way you'd like it to be. You wish that t-shirt you're planning on wearing fit just a little bit better. It hasn't felt the same since it ran through the dryer. Now, the front of it seems shorter than the rest of the fabric. You fear that this might expose your stomach to the world.

You look at your skin, dry and flaking. All those creams and moisturizers just aren't doing their job. You notice the flyaway hairs in your mustache. It's too hard to trim those. And that patchy beard. What a mess. No matter how many times you shave, you always miss spots.

You put on a button-up shirt. You joke that it's a tablecloth with arms cut into it. Though sometimes, that's what maneuvering your body around feels like. Like you're dragging a kitchen table everywhere you go.

II. Losartan Potassium

You'd love to wake up one morning with all this extra weight, literal and figurative, gone. Though you know it doesn't work that easy. Nothing ever seems to, even on days where the sun hangs high above the clouds and blinds you with its light. The seatbelt is still tight. The pants are still ill-fitting, and you can barely bend at the waist to tie your shoes.

You tell yourself these things everyday, in the hopes that it'll just click and you'll finally get your shit together. You have so much to work on. Not for everybody else. For you. And to lose the pill regimen you've been on since you ended up where you are now.

You take medicines a man in his sixties might take. You feel like a man in his sixties. Your twenty-six year old brain trapped in an insufficient body. You worry about your already slightly enlarged, overworked heart one day just stopping. You say you can't let the worry win. But some days, it does. Some days, it fights dirty. It headbutts; Throws strikes at the end of the round; Hits below the belt. Today is one of those days.

III. Hydrochlorothiazide

You're standing in front of the bathroom mirror, forcing a faint smirk after you brush your teeth. Staring into your own eyes, all these thoughts run through your head. Their noise is drowned by the rush of water from the faucet.

In reality, you've felt better overall the past few months. You got a bit slimmer in the waist, and made an effort to break old habits. Though your blood is still pumping too hard, and your heart is still overworked, that feels like a win. Just not today.

You open the magnetic cabinet behind your reflection, remove three pill bottles, and put on some cologne. You swallow down the cocktail of medicine, check your watch, and look down at the clothes you’re wearing. Good enough. Time for work.