MYSTERY PACKAGE, DEL TO

365 Days of Thanksliving — Day 311

If you’re a regular around here, you might remember the mystery package that showed up from the VA a few months ago. Lo and behold, it was one of those at-home Cologuard tests—or as I affectionately call it, the “poop on a stick” exam.

If you’ve never experienced the joy of a poop-on-a-stick test, let me tell you, there is truly nothing else like it. (Please note the dripping sarcasm). I told the Wife I’d rather drink a gallon of that toxic green goo and let the doc go exploring with a scope up the rump the next day. I hope you’re laughing, because I sure am. Anyway, that was Part One of the VA’s surprise mailers.

Fast forward to today. I was out and about visiting shut-ins when a notification from the VA suddenly popped up on my phone: “Prescription package shipped.” Not only that, it was already out for delivery. Next thing I know, my phone buzzes with a FedEx notification showing a picture of a box sitting on my doorstep. I genuinely had no clue what it was.

Now, you probably know I had a VA appointment just the other day. But I certainly didn’t recall discussing any immediate prescriptions with the doc. In my head, "prescription" equals some pill you swallow out of an orange bottle. I was scratching my head, completely unable to fathom what under heaven the nice folks at the VA had decided to mail me this time.

So, I texted the Wife: “I got an email from the VA saying they shipped a prescription to me, but I have no idea what it is. I don’t recall her ordering any medication, nor did I ask for any. FedEx says a sizable box is arriving today. I don’t know.”

She replied: “FedEx... Sizable box, probably a Cologuard 💩 test, lol.”

She just had to go there, didn’t she? We kept the poop conversation going for a bit, until I finally retorted, “I just pooped on the stick! It can’t be that again already. Gosh, I hope not.”

Then, the mystery deepened. The Wife texted: “Whatever it is, it’s in an inner Styrofoam box with a chill pack... please hold...”

Holding... Holding... Holding...

As I awaited my fate, I naturally continued to snarf down my chicken sammich and French fries, generously dipped in ranch, of course. Still waiting.

Finally, the mystery was solved. The wifey texted again: “4-week supply of Zepbound (tirzepatide) injections.”

Ah, of course! Ding! Ding! Ding! The lightbulb clicked on.

During my appointment on Monday, I had inquired about weight-loss treatments like Ozempic, Mounjaro, and Wegovy. I’d heard the VA had started clearing these prescriptions. That said, the VA usually wants fluffy-to-stuffy vets like me to first participate in something called the MOVE program. From my understanding, it’s basically an accountability group (think Weight Watchers, but military) before they let you try the jab.

I told the good doc I was game for the MOVE program and walked her through my weight gain/loss rollercoaster over the years, noting that I'd tried pretty much everything. She said she’d put in a referral for MOVE, but went ahead and suggested tirzepatide over the others anyway.

Honestly, I never expected the medication to just magically appear at my door three days later. But there it is, currently chilling in the fridge. Before I take that first jab, I think I’ll consult a nurse on how to actually do it—and maybe spend a weekend cleaning the house of all the junk food I’ve amassed over the last year. There’s absolutely no point in taking these injections if I’m still inhaling the exact foods they're designed to counteract. (Looking at you, chicken sammich and ranch).

Anyway, I am incredibly thankful (again) for the stellar care from the VA and for this second mystery package showing up at the door. And hey, at least this time around, the unboxing won’t be a wildly gross experience. Hopefully, it’ll help lead me toward being a healthier version of what God designed me to be.

So... mystery solved. What are you grateful for today?