Well, when I woke up this morning, I could barely move without crying out in pain in response to the hammer drill that is currently kicking my backs ass. It hurts to sit, it hurts to stand...definitely a win win situation for pain dammit. So I call my foreman and explain my situation, and my decision to bite the bullet and fill the scripts for the Soma and Anaprox. As I've mentioned before, I am not a fan of pills, specifically downers and muscle relaxants (note to self: do humorous post about the time you "almost died" doing quaaludes in high school, preferably while goofing on soma), but that's another story.
Since I'm going to the pharmacy anyway, I figured I'd fill the scripts my doc had given me for my hbp meds, since the samples for one of them was gone as of yesterday. I grab the scripts only to discover the one I'm out of isn't there. I can't call for a refill anymore...new rules at my docs practice, so I figure I'll go and have the nurse check my pressure and get either a: a script or b: some more samples and then set up an appointment for a fasting blood draw that I have been blowing off for a month. This my friends, is what I like to call "physiological bartering". So...I'm not concerned about the blood pressure check, since the nurse at PRO-MED checked it out the other day at 122 / 87 ( that's good ), The nurse at my doc's office reads 144 / 102 ( not good ). I have always had "white coat hypertension", meaning my BP goes up because I get anxious, but these numbers were off the scale considering my earlier good reading at PRO-MED just 2 days ago. As you can imagine, this did nothing to quell my anxiety. The other nurse came in and took it again, this time it was 132 / 91...better, but not 122 / 87.
I get my samples and set up the blood draw for monday morning and head off to the pharmacy to get my pain meds...remember those? I do, because I am IN FUCKING PAIN.
I have to fill out a workers comp form so the pharmacy can verify that I
I'm assured this will only take "at least 45 minutes" and they will call me when it's ready. So I wince around the grocery store down the street for 45 minutes so Ann won't have to go later ( it's her day off after all) and return to the pharmacy to get my pills. Nope...waiting for billing info...go home we'll call you. This started at 10:49 am.
At 2:45 pm, after a call to my foreman who had heard nothing, I called the pharmacy.They cheerfully told me it was ready to go. Since when I thought? They didn't call me...bastards.
Customer service is truly a lost art.
Now, if you'll excuse me...it's soma time.