Tuesday, January 05, 2016

PRESCRIPTION FOR DISASTER

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I have a drug problem. Yes, a common drug problem! My dumbass pharmacist can’t seem to get my prescriptions done on time, or even enough.

I take 6 different drugs that although not addicted to I have to take if I wish to annoy my wife and family for as long as I live. So off I go to my primary physician, to get loaded up with drugs every three months. The doctor is the pusher and I am the druggy. Nice!

So I call my pharmacy using a touchtone system to allow me to get the drugs when I renew the prescription. Each Rx number is entered with my keypad, with the fear that I am halfway through when I hit a wrong button and have to start again.

Once I am done with the order a message tells me when to pick them up AND asks for my phone number in case my dumb ass pharmacist needs to get in touch with me, maybe a question about not being able to fully fill my request, maybe?

“Your prescription order will be ready at 12:00 pm!”

A couple of hours, not bad!
 
So off I go a few hours after 12:00 and tell the peon behind the counter: “Del Bloggolo, Joseph?” Then I cross my fingers and toes and even my arms waiting as he goes through the bin marked DA to DZ.

“That was Del Bloggolo?”

“Yes” (You friggin moron)

“Joseph?”

“Yes” (You you’re still a friggin moron)

“WE didn’t get to finish it, can you come back in a few hours?”

Being a sweetheart of a guy I say: “Sure” (the friggin morons have started to get me mad.)

“WHY DIDN’T YOU CALL ME TO TELL ME THAT THE ORDER IS NOT READY???”

HE LOOKS AT ME AS IF I’M SPEAKING MANDARIN.

OK, maybe I’m being unreasonable, although it has happened all too often, I will come back.

I’m back!

Yes and they the friggin morons don’t look too happy! WHY?
Because now they tell me one of my prescriptions was not approved by the new health insurance company on the original order.

“WHY DIDN’T YOU CALL ME TO TELL ME THAT THE ORDER IS NOT READY???”

HE LOOKS AT ME AS IF I’M SPEAKING MANDARIN.

It turns out I now have to call a number and find out why. So I go home and take the prescriptions the morons filled and discover they owe me 22 pills on one prescription!

I go down, and tell the friggin morons they shorted me 22 pills.

“Do you know the name of them?”

“I have six prescriptions, honestly I don’t recall, but you must have a record of what you owe a customer?

“No.”

My dream is to wrap my hands around this moron, press my thumbs on his Adam’s Apple and see just how far back it will go before hitting his spine.



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