I hadn't filled my prescriptions for my new inhalers yet because my doctor gave me samples to use first. Alas, the samples are all gone and I needed to get the new prescriptions filled. Today was as good a day as any, especially since I couldn't go to the laundromat. Well, I could have gone to the laundromat, but I really didn't want to have to walk with the granny cart loaded up with clothes. I haven't had to do that in five years and I just couldn't bear it.
So, I walked up to CVS at Yucca and Cahuenga to fill my asthma prescriptions. It's a good walk for a fat chick on a hot day whose daily inhaler ran out a week ago. I was breathing hard by the time I got to the pharmacy counter. I pulled out the rescue inhaler and took a big gulp as the pharmacist approached the counter. "Can I help you?" she asked. As I was holding in the life-saving albuterol, I simply slid the prescription paper toward her. "Last name?" she asked. I told her, sounding like that kid on Malcolm in the Middle. Wheezing abated momentarily, I then told her my first name and date of birth. She looked over the prescription and made that face. That face that people who don't really give a shit make when they have to give you bad news. That "Oh, I'm sorry" face that you know is not sincere; they're not really sorry.
"This won't be ready until Monday or Tuesday," she said. "I have to check with your doctor."
"Why?" I asked.
"I can't read the prescription," she said.
"It's Veramyst and Symbicort," I said. "The Nasonex was on there as a back up in case I decided I didn't like the Veramyst. But I do, so let's go with that one."
"There's no date on here," she went on, "and I can't read the dosage on the Symbicort." For the record, the paper clearly has a 2x next to the Symbicort portion, which I assume means twice daily, but whatever lady. I know she's just being careful.
"You should really make sure the prescription is clearly written before you leave your doctor's office and that you can read it," she said.
"If I told you what that says, would you fill it without checking with my doctor?" I asked.
"Noooo," she said, what a condescending shake of her head.
Then what difference does it make if I can read it? I mean, I can read it. I could tell her exactly what it said, but if my being able to read it will not get it filled any faster, what the hell?
It wasn't a totally wasted trip. I bought toilet paper and feminine things while I was there, and Circus Peanuts because, damn it, I deserved them. I'm still a little annoyed. I mean, do I look like I'm going to get high on inhalers? And did the fact that I practically passed out on her counter not give her the idea that I kind of need them as soon as possible? Hello! Airways constricting over here! Oh well, yea for exercise!
So, I walked up to CVS at Yucca and Cahuenga to fill my asthma prescriptions. It's a good walk for a fat chick on a hot day whose daily inhaler ran out a week ago. I was breathing hard by the time I got to the pharmacy counter. I pulled out the rescue inhaler and took a big gulp as the pharmacist approached the counter. "Can I help you?" she asked. As I was holding in the life-saving albuterol, I simply slid the prescription paper toward her. "Last name?" she asked. I told her, sounding like that kid on Malcolm in the Middle. Wheezing abated momentarily, I then told her my first name and date of birth. She looked over the prescription and made that face. That face that people who don't really give a shit make when they have to give you bad news. That "Oh, I'm sorry" face that you know is not sincere; they're not really sorry.
"This won't be ready until Monday or Tuesday," she said. "I have to check with your doctor."
"Why?" I asked.
"I can't read the prescription," she said.
"It's Veramyst and Symbicort," I said. "The Nasonex was on there as a back up in case I decided I didn't like the Veramyst. But I do, so let's go with that one."
"There's no date on here," she went on, "and I can't read the dosage on the Symbicort." For the record, the paper clearly has a 2x next to the Symbicort portion, which I assume means twice daily, but whatever lady. I know she's just being careful.
"You should really make sure the prescription is clearly written before you leave your doctor's office and that you can read it," she said.
"If I told you what that says, would you fill it without checking with my doctor?" I asked.
"Noooo," she said, what a condescending shake of her head.
Then what difference does it make if I can read it? I mean, I can read it. I could tell her exactly what it said, but if my being able to read it will not get it filled any faster, what the hell?
It wasn't a totally wasted trip. I bought toilet paper and feminine things while I was there, and Circus Peanuts because, damn it, I deserved them. I'm still a little annoyed. I mean, do I look like I'm going to get high on inhalers? And did the fact that I practically passed out on her counter not give her the idea that I kind of need them as soon as possible? Hello! Airways constricting over here! Oh well, yea for exercise!
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