Delores Melon

I can’t stand people that get their panties in a bunch over the whole X vs Christ-mas thing. Jesus I’m lazy for fuck sake. That’s FIVE more letters I have to write.

You know, I can’t remember precisely when this tradition came about in our family, but you know something is going awry when you’re getting ready to open presents and have to make sure a knife and first aid kit is handy.   Why in gods name must they hermetically seal a FUCKING STUFFED ANIMAL? I should not require stitches when giving my child a gift.  And the twist ties. For fuck sake, it’s a stuffed animal. Do they really think it’s going to break free and head for the nearest forest seeking it’s natural habitat?

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had a lovely Christmas. However, the wounds are still fresh, so yeah, I’m a bit crabby.

Other things that have pissed me off lately. Last night the phone rang, four times in one hour. Same number, just hung up when I answered. The fourth time I let the machine get it, no message of course.

Today I come home and this time, my mystery caller left a message. Joy.  It was from a pre-recorded message, paid for by a congressional candidate. It was a woman simply ranting about a seemingly evil opponent to the fella that paid for this call.  Now, I’m all about democracy. However, don’t fucking call me four times in an hour just to hang up, then call me the next day and leave bullshit on my answering machine.

If you want me to vote for you, then tell me what the hell you’re going to DO for me. I don’t want to hear you bitch about Joe Schmoe. If I’m interesting in Joe Schmoe, I’ll learn about him on my own.  That irritates the crap out of me.

Being the tard that I am, I emailed the congressman responsible for this irritation in my life. I shall copy the email for your reading pleasure:

** my county/state**

*I’d leave you my number, but clearly you already have that and God knows how many more times you’d call me with pre-recorded nonsense if I actually volunteered to give my number to you.”

I’m still waiting with mild excitement for a response.

This particular store that I frequent a LOT also has the joy of filling my fix-the-crazy prescriptions. I won’t name them here, but it rhymes with the oh-so common name Marget.  Anywho, I’ll try to make this brief, but being long winded is a skill of mine.

Switched from Adderall to Dexedrine. Was taking 30 mg of Adderall. Asked dr. how much dexedrine to take. She shrugged. Basically I’d have to tweak it to see what worked. She prescribed 5 mg tablets and gave me 90 pills.  So I started taking 15 mg in the AM and 15 mg in the PM.30 mg a day, same as Adderall… seemed logical.

Well, when it came time to refill I called dr. and asked to have same thing, I didn’t have time for an actual sit down appt. with holidays, I’d just get in there after and discuss how I like Dex.  Picked up my script and headed to my home away from home to get my Rx filled. I handed the familiar and always cheerful woman my script and set off to shop while they filled my Rx.

Return approximately 45 minutes later. Familiar and always cheerful woman says it’s too soon to fill script. *gasp*. I only had enough left in my bottle for that afternoons dose. She said my new script couldn’t be filled until the 27th, six days away.  I explained the whole new drug, tweaking dose thing. She was slowly losing her cheerful demeanor. Pointed out that doctor had written script for a dosing of 1 tablet 3 times a day. That would mean 15 mg a day. Now I know I forget things, but I was quite lucid and coherent when my dr. said I’d just have to play around with it to find the right dose. She did not say “1 tablet 3 times a day”.

A brief discussion regarding insurance coverage ensued and that only my doctor could give the go ahead on filling the script, and I’d pay out of pocket. Only trace evidence of the cheerful demeanor remained.  She called my doctor. It was at that moment I had an anxiety attack when I remembered the phone system my dr’s office uses. I think Satan himself designed it. Apparently, pharmacy lady was not to be thwarted by a phone system designed for lunatics by lunatics.

She informed me that my dr. was fine with script being filled (likely the reason she wrote the fucking script in the first place … duh) and asked if I wanted the whole script filled at my expense. It was only 29 bucks, and that’s a very small price to pay for sanity and happiness, don’t you agree? By this time, she was full on annoyed. While she was filling the Rx, I checked my current bottle and that’s when I really noticed the dosing instructions. As I said, I was following what my dr. had actually SAID to me and didn’t even pay attention to the bottle.  I tried to make light of this, seeing as she was clearly quite put out with me and my crisis. The episode ended with her reprimanding me for not paying attention to the script and to make sure I paid attention next time and had my dr. write the script correctly. That last part is going to be quite ironic in a moment.

So, I left, distraught over creating such a hassle that familiar and always cheerful pharmacy lady was borderline rude and obviously aggravated with me and my crisis.  I sat in the car recounting the whole tale for FOM and during the course of the conversation I absentmindedly picked up the bottle of the freshly filled pills when to my horror I realized the pills looked different. *vomit*

Immediately I felt sick to my stomach because I realized not only had I brought familiar and always cheerful pharmacy lady to a less than happy state of mind, I now had to go BACK with a new crisis.  I was sure I was being a ninny and that the script was fine. But it was different so I HAD to check. Familiar and always cheerful pharmacy lady was no where to be seen, and I was helped by someone else. Although she did reappear a few minutes later. I didn’t even look at her. I was trying not to vomit. *yes I’m dramatic*

Now, I’m going to pause because what happened next is most unfortunate. What happened is, I let a perfect opportunity slip by. Untouched, unmentioned. I just let it go. Ok, back to the story. With familiar and always cheerful pharmacy lady standing at the next register (few feet away), the other lady handed me my bottle back and said “She gave you 10 mg instead of the 5mg. You’re all set now sweety.”

Of course NOW I’ve thought of over 3000 things I could have said. Unfortunately calling them up 24 hours later and trying to recount all that then pulling out a zinger likely wouldn’t have the same effect.