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I recently started having some pretty bad back pain. I've missed a lot of work and may need surgery, and walking from place to place -- even standing up for long periods of time -- has become extremely painful.
Yesterday, I saw a specialist who gave me prescriptions for some pretty dandy painkillers, and my plan was simply to rush to the Wal-Mart pharmacy, hand them the prescription form and then sit the hell down on the benches before I collapsed. This, naturally, is not what happened.
When I approached the prescription drop-off window, there was already a customer there. No big deal, right? How long does it take to drop off a prescription? Here's my script, here's my date of birth, here's my insurance card (if it's a first visit). But no, this guy was there arguing with the pharmacist.
"How much?" he shouted.
"$17.95."
"WHAT? I can get 100 of these from Dave's Pharmacy for eight dollars!"
This is the point where my back started to really, really hurt. Walking from the parking lot was bad enough, but standing here behind this yo-yo seemed to aggravate the injury.
She very calmly informs him that this, in fact, is the price, and he's welcome to take his business elsewhere if he's not satisfied. (Good for her!) Then he begins arguing louder, and demands that she fill out just one of the two prescriptions on his slip. She informs him that since the two medications are on the same prescription, she has to fill out both or neither. He starts shouting louder. At this point, I've got to grab on to the wall and take all the weight off my right leg, which feels like it's being stabbed by 17,000 individual leprechauns with those big Klingon swords they use on Star Trek.
The customer at this point is doing poor math loudly. "$17.95... that's TWO-HUNNERT AND FIFTY DOLLARS for a hundred of 'em!" He then snatches the prescription slip and wanders off, shouting out mathmatical figures on his way. "Seventeen dollars for Vicodin..."
Grateful that he's gone, I stagger up to the window rolling my eyes at the jackass and hand the pharmacist my prescriptions. She takes them and glances down, then says, "Are you sure you don't want to just follow him? You can get two hundred of these for two dollars where he's going."
That laugh was the best painkiller I'd had all day.
Yesterday, I saw a specialist who gave me prescriptions for some pretty dandy painkillers, and my plan was simply to rush to the Wal-Mart pharmacy, hand them the prescription form and then sit the hell down on the benches before I collapsed. This, naturally, is not what happened.
When I approached the prescription drop-off window, there was already a customer there. No big deal, right? How long does it take to drop off a prescription? Here's my script, here's my date of birth, here's my insurance card (if it's a first visit). But no, this guy was there arguing with the pharmacist.
"How much?" he shouted.
"$17.95."
"WHAT? I can get 100 of these from Dave's Pharmacy for eight dollars!"
This is the point where my back started to really, really hurt. Walking from the parking lot was bad enough, but standing here behind this yo-yo seemed to aggravate the injury.
She very calmly informs him that this, in fact, is the price, and he's welcome to take his business elsewhere if he's not satisfied. (Good for her!) Then he begins arguing louder, and demands that she fill out just one of the two prescriptions on his slip. She informs him that since the two medications are on the same prescription, she has to fill out both or neither. He starts shouting louder. At this point, I've got to grab on to the wall and take all the weight off my right leg, which feels like it's being stabbed by 17,000 individual leprechauns with those big Klingon swords they use on Star Trek.
The customer at this point is doing poor math loudly. "$17.95... that's TWO-HUNNERT AND FIFTY DOLLARS for a hundred of 'em!" He then snatches the prescription slip and wanders off, shouting out mathmatical figures on his way. "Seventeen dollars for Vicodin..."
Grateful that he's gone, I stagger up to the window rolling my eyes at the jackass and hand the pharmacist my prescriptions. She takes them and glances down, then says, "Are you sure you don't want to just follow him? You can get two hundred of these for two dollars where he's going."
That laugh was the best painkiller I'd had all day.
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