The Shelf of Shame
Round bottles of pills fill one shelf of my medicine cabinet. Only one bottle contains a rather harmless drug: a prescription pill used to fight nausea; that bottle tends to stay full for a long time. The other bottles hold stronger drugs: one for my hypothyroidism; two to reduce my anxiety and stress and allow me to sleep at night; and one, the largest one, whose contents somewhat alleviate the chronic head pain I have suffered for almost two decades due to five jaw surgeries.