Make That 47
True story:
In the fall of 1984, I was a skinny, malnourished first-year graduate student in clinical psychology at Virginia Tech in Blacksburg, Virginia. This was just shortly before I realized that I wasn’t cut out to be a psychotherapist and needed to work with something I could actually fix–like eyeballs–but I digress.
Moving back to Blacksburg had reignited some childhood allergies which in turn had set off a touch of asthma, and that was the reason that I was in Ellett’s Drugstore on Main Street looking for drugs–any and all, please–that would give me a few moments of relief. After scooping up and paying for enough OTC medications to anesthetize a herd of charging elephants, I started out the door.… Read the rest