I’m not sure how the expression “Oh Mylanta” ever got introduced around St. Anne’s. Over the months of its usage here, the ‘oh’ has dropped out. Now a simple grown of “My-lanta” is enough to communicate that “it’s been quite a night.”
Although the namesake drug is advertised as offering “powerful relief from heartburn, acid indigestion or gas,” the causes of this expression’s use are much more diverse than that.
Be further warned that this expression is not in vogue with all the staff here; there are just a few of us who have taken to using it, or referring to it, as in “We don’t want another my-lanta night!”
“So,” you may ask, “why all this rambling about the improper use of the name of a common over-the-counter drug?” I would answer that it’s been kind of a “my-lanta day.”
This morning, I didn’t realize all the various projects that would come my way. I’m just glad I didn’t have to deal with any residents having problems treatable by Mylanta. (Tonight, I was the personal care aide, so I’d be the one cleaning up any bathroom messes.)
You may wonder, then, what triggers brought me to think about this mild expletive, which serves as a substitute for “Oh my gosh!”.
There was nothing earth-shaking (and I’ve definitely seen worse), but we’ll just say that the day developed quite differently than I had planned.
I had beautiful hopes for this day with minimal hours of receptionist duties. I was going to clean house over at our convent. Also, I even told someone who helps out in chapel that I was going to do dishes so she needn’t pour any whine in the cruet or put out a new purificator for tomorrow’s Mass – I would do that afterwards.
If she’s reading this, she’ll realize that those instructions were in vain and the bottle of Ivory dish soap never made it out of the sacristy cupboard.
Anyway, back to my explanation, right?
I ended up processing over forty items for Sr. Rebecca and posting a job opening in the morning. In the afternoon, I became entangled in a battle with the printer. I had been waiting a couple of days for a needed part before I could print our newsletter on the 11×17 paper that I use. Finally, we got the part and were able to print, but the settings were not cooperative and the machine wanted to print it totally wrong – “My-lanta!”
Using a different computer, I finally was victorious and got all the newsletters printed and distributed to our residents.
The afternoon also included two more battles (with mixed results): one with a soap dispenser and the other with the cupboard door at our front desk.
In all this, I am glad to be able to say, with the psalmist: “Blessed be the LORD, my rock, who trains my hands for battle, my fingers for war; My safeguard and my fortress, my stronghold, my deliverer, My shield, in whom I take refuge.”
I find these words to be so beautiful and fitting for the battle of daily life, especially apropos when facing “my-lanta moments.”