Thursday, July 5, 2012

Let's Go to the Pharmacy!

On Tuesday, after a week of steroids, I was still enjoying the coughing lifestyle. I would tell you what the coughing involved, but it would make you violently ill. Seriously. This is some gross coughing.

I shelved a book and was rendered temporarily unable to breathe, because I was choking. On my own lungs. That's right. Choking. It was very attractive. Several people stopped to propose marriage to me.

So I called the doctor again and left a hesitant message on the nurse's voicemail.

"I came in last week," I said. "And you gave me these steroids. And I feel lots better, except I am disgusting and coughing things up. The things are horrific. So I don't know if you want to try another medicine or have me come and see you again...?"

I may have waited for the nurse to respond to me, even though I was actually talking to a voicemail box and not a person.

"So you can call me at this number...Thanks."

And then I hung up. And then I realized I'd left my cell number even though I was at work and wasn't able to carry my cell around or answer it due to the lack of professionalism one demonstrates by whipping out a cell phone while talking to library patrons. So yeah.

When I finished work, I checked my voicemail and discovered a response to my message! I was thrilled.

The nurse said she was phoning in antibiotics! I could go to the pharmacy (which I had not specified in my message, but the nurse said she'd use the one I always used) and pick it up. And then I would be cured (after following the recommended dosages and what-not).

And so I left work and stopped at the pharmacy. And they hunted around and I spelled my last name lots of times, and finally they checked the computer and NO MEDICINE.

Clearly, I was too early. They had not called in the medicine yet. So I left.

The next day was the FOURTH OF JULY *fireworks explode in background* so I went to the pharmacy during the four hours they were open and I stood in line and the same man was there at the counter and he looked at me as if to say, "This freaky girl again? Okay."

And then he searched through the medicines in the drawers, and he searched through the medicine in the just-filled basket, and he checked the computer.

No medicine.

He gave me this look that said, "I think you are hallucinating this prescription, because it is likely for lithium, because you are insane."

So I left. And I went home. And I coughed, because that is what I do in my spare time now, instead of knitting on the Eternal Sock.

This morning I called the doctor's office and left another ridiculous voicemail message for the nurse.

"'s Laura. And I got a message from you on Tuesday, and it said there would be medicine at the pharmacy and there isn't I was wondering if they lost it. They probably lost it. So maybe you want to call it in again. Or talk to me. You can call me. Anyway. Thanks."

It was a pathetic message.

I feel like they are playing this message over and over again at the doctor's office and laughing. I would be.

And then the nurse called back and I talked TO her instead of to her voicemail. "I'm not sure what the doctor wants..." she said. And then, "Oh, so that's how you spell your last name..." And so forth. Then she told me that if she didn't call back, I would be able to go get the medicine.

A likely story.

When I walked into the pharmacy for the THIRD time, I knew just who would be at the counter, and there he was. Pharmacy Guy, who is a 20-something intern, was standing there, smiling, waiting for me to come up and be weird.

But the medicine was there, so I seemed SLIGHTLY less strange, until, that is, he told me about it being which point I jumped into the air and said, "VICTORY." And then I took my medicine and left.

Who does that at the pharmacy? Who jumps for joy, does a fist-in-the-air move, and cries "victory?" Because that is something you shouldn't do in public. And I did it. So now I can't go back to the pharmacy, unless it is through the drive-through, because I am on their security cameras doing that. And it is shameful.

I am ill-suited for adulthood.

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