I had a few alternate titles, and none of them really worked. The O.K. Chorale Holds Up a Pharmacy didn’t sound quite right. The O.K. Chorale goes out for Drugs didn’t really make it, either. The O.K. Chorale Stops the Pharmacist in his Tracks is a bit of an exaggeration. Not much, but a bit.
You’ve already guessed, my friends, that we had trouble once again with the Pharmacy That Shall Not Be Named. This time it wasn’t the people – not totally, anyway. For the most part, it’s the system. Or should I say systems, plural? Maybe so.
We rolled up to the hitching post, settled our horse (a Subaru) in a stall, and split up to make better time. Chuck went one direction to get a quart of milk. I followed Amigo to pick out a package of lip balms. We converged together at the pharmacy window. We’d just approach one by one, and we’d be done in a flash. Right? Wrong.
One register wasn’t working. Its card reader was out of service, so that window could only take cash. Works for me, I though, and Amigo, too. No problem. But (wait for it) — there’s more.
All in good time, one of the assistants called us up to the window. She’d already pulled out meds for all three of us. Sad, I guess, that we’re such regular customers that she knows our names, but I’ll give her points for customer service.
But as luck would have it, anything that can go wrong will go wrong. Amigo’s prescription comes in two bottles, and they’d only filled one. I’d called in the numbers for both bottles, so there was confusion. Amigo was a strong self advocate and reminded them that he doesn’t like the childproof caps and that the higher dose capsule goes in the bigger bottle and the lower dose in the short one. They know this. It’s all on his record. But somehow, half the prescription got lost in the shuffle, and the sizes and caps on the bottles was the least of their worries.
So instead of Amigo going first, I stepped up to the second window and received my one prescription. One? I thought it was two? When I called to check, the staff member on the phone told me there was another medication coming due. As the line got longer behind us, I said never mind, don’t worry about it, I’ll get it at a later date. It’s not urgent. Let’s check out now before the milk Chuck bought starts to curdle.
While all this was happening at my window, Chuck handled his order, the fastest of the three. Amigo was still waiting for the pharmacist to rush through filling what should have been done already. I thought I had sorted through my own one lamp or two dilemma when the pharmacist came over for the required Consultation. He looked at my papers and said “One? Isn’t there a second?” Apparently, the paperwork was such that it indicated a second medicine. One if by land, two if by sea, and meanwhile, the line was getting longer and longer behind us.
Finally – and I do mean finally! – Amigo and I checked out and left. Amigo got his chap sticks, and I got away without yet another stupid small single use plastic bag. I only had to say “I don’t need a bag” three times.
With a deep breath, we mounted the patient horse (Subaru) and headed home. And I thought to myself, “Self, wasn’t there a mixed up text message regarding a medication earlier this week?” I’d gotten a phone call from the doctor’s office saying that I’d requested a refill on a powerful medicine I’d just begun taking, and they were worried. Was I okay? Um, yes, I was fine, and I hadn’t requested a refill. When I called in later, pharmacy people chalked it up to a mix up in the “Get your Refills by Text Message” program.
At long last, we made it home. I put excess paper (most of it ads for the text message refill program) through the shredder, placed my meds and Amigo’s in their correct spots in the medicine cabinet, and left Chuck to his own devices.
Dear Pharmacy That Shall Not Be Named; I hope the O.K. Chorale can stay far away from your window for a long, long time. Don’t bother to text. It’s not you, it’s me. No, I have to admit, it’s you.
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