I am now a collector of paracetamol. Seeking out, buying and storing copious amounts. This collection exists as a safety net to relieve symptoms of the COVID-19 I’ve yet to contract. Is it inevitable? Hopefully not but it sometimes feels like it is. The look of the boxes seem alien to me and I hide them away. Their image haunts me. They remind me of a time when my depression and psychosis were treatment resistant. Endless cocktails of anti- depressants and anti-psychotics. For weeks and months they persevered… trial and error they said. Try her on this, try her on that. Call her up, hand out meds, check her mouth, make sure she swallowed. Finally, came Lithium. Last resort. In time, it helped. I begged never ever ever to take me off of it. It kept me on the sane side of crazy. It kept me on the tightrope. They persisted and insisted and in time I was weaned, like a baby off of breast milk, so I came off of Lithium. I was okay. I made a promise to myself that I would work really hard so as to avoid having to go on any type of medication in the future. However, I am aware that, as we grow older, it maybe that the need for medication increases, for example, statins to lower cholesterol, pills to reduce high blood pressure, HRT to treat menopausal symptoms… Fortunately, I remain medication free. In recent years, I adopted a conscious healthy way of life with plenty of spinach, broccoli, fruit, yoga and sleep. Because of the care I have given to myself, I remain well. I am therefore not considered a ‘vulnerable person’ where COVID-19 is concerned. This makes me feel proud.