Down the Hall on Your Left

This site is a blog about what has been coasting through my consciousness lately. The things I post will be reflections that I see of the world around me. You may not agree with me or like what I say. In either case – you’ll get over it and I can live with it if it makes you unhappy. Please feel free to leave comments if you wish . All postings are: copyright 2014 – 2017

We Are Not In Kansas

arm1There are days, not many, thank God, when I think that I am the only sane person on Earth.

Today’s example —

As I have written here recently my wife, the lovely and temporarily right-handed, Dawn, is recovering from a broken left arm. She has been under a doctor’s care. The doctor prescribed some painkillers for her and the Kroger pharmacy filled a little orange plastic bottle with the pills.

Her injury really laid her low and in pain, so I took the scrip to the pharmacy. I explained it all to the crew there and they were most sympathetic. They filled the prescription quickly and I was out of there in minutes. Of course, to do so I had to forge my wife’s signature. Big Whoopin’ Deal.

Over the last few weeks I’ve done so again on various forms and checks for “The Bank.” I was arm2even able to get a refill on Dawn’s Happy Pills for her. No questions asked. No problemo.

And then today happened at Kroger.

Because Dawn’s injury happened at her place of employment – The Church – a “Worker’s Comp” claim file was opened. Again – No Big Deal. It happens a zillion times a day.

To help satisfy the “Worker’s Comp People,” they wanted some verification from the pharmacy as to what drugs were taken and the cost. Standard Operating Procedure. It makes sense too.

So  —  at Dawn’s request, I toddled off to the same Kroger pharmacy where her prescription was cheerfully filled (and refilled) to get a printout of the requested information.

I know all of the pharmacy staff there and they know me. That is where I get my own monthly bushel basket of meds. It’s my second home. When I asked for the meds printout I was greeted with a smile and a complete lack of live brain cells.

arm3According to the grinning pharmacist, Dawn would have to pick up the requested printout in person or – failing that – sign a release form that would allow them to give it to me.

Whoa! Back up a couple of steps here, Big Fellow.

I asked her to run that past me one more time, in case I was having a mini-stroke while she had been talking, and I didn’t hear her correctly.

She spelled it out for me again.

They cannot give me the piece of paper listing the meds Dawn took unless she signed a release form. Major Disconnect with Reality.

I clicked my heels together three times. I slapped my own face, and I turned around twice, but I was still in Kroger’s version of Oz.arm4

I repeated back what the pharmacist told me – only in words more comfortable in my vocabulary.

“Let me get this straight,” I said.

“I could bring in the original prescription, sign Dawn’s name and walk out with enough pain killers to make Charlie Sheen yell, ‘Winning!’ and you had no problem. BUT – I can’t get a piece of paper with just the name of said pain killers on it without a signed release. Am I getting that said accurately?”

“Yes, you are.”

Logic Black Hole – Visit #2

arm5“So,” I said, “I can walk out with real drugs, but I can’t walk out with the name of the drugs on paper?”

“Yes. That is correct.”

I pinched my nipples to clear my head. I was grasping for a solution.

“OK. Let’s try this,” I told the pharmacist. What if you are, for just a moment, careless and leave that sheet of paper on the counter, and I, larcenous dude that I am, grab the paper and run away? How’s that play for you?”

“No. They have cameras everywhere. You’ll be arrested and I’ll be fired.”

I bounced my forehead on the counter, muttering to myself – all the while eying the printout, judging my chances of snatching it from her hand and getting to my car before the Kroger P.A. system would blare, “Limping guy wearing a Giants cap – Clean up in Aisle One.”

I had to let it go. I could feel my blood pressure rising and all my pills were at home. They had me by the Clonidine.

“OK,” I said with a sigh of defeat. “You win. Gimme the danged release form.”

As I walked away from the counter I turned to the pharmacist, and doing my best Arnold Schwarzenegger, I said to her –

“I’ll be back.”

arm6

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One thought on “We Are Not In Kansas

  1. LOL!! Yeh, I had the same problem once, but at a different pharmacy. I called and asked for a printout of my filled scripts and told the Pharmacist I would have my Daughter pick it up. “No! No!”, she said. “We can’t do that. Against our rules, regulations, and policy. Besides”, she says, “It’s against the law to give a list to anyone except the patient, and you have to have a picture ID.” (She didn’t mention anything about a release) Yep, had been doing business back then about 20 years. Way before she got there. But, rules are rules. And, it IS against the State Law. I talked later to one of the owners of the pharmacy. He said, “Call me at home if you have a problem like that again.” Haven’t had a problem since. Changed Pharmacies.

    Liked by 1 person

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