Thursday, April 07, 2005

Logan's Angry Dave

I've been trying to be good lately, with having a short temper. It's something that is a constantly improving aspect of my character. I've written about it so many times I'll just give you this link. I was going to mention the bad effects that my medication can have on me, but I can't find an entry for it right now. What happens, and why there are such glaring warnings on the bottle such as "follow directions for taking this medication EXACTLY" and "Do not skip doses or stop taking this medicine without consulting your physician" is bad. Stomach cramps, intestinal pain and all kinds of less-fun symptoms follow. What I had forgot about was that my perscription was running out. Literally. I had one more pill yesterday morning, and no more refills to my name, so I had to get that taken care of. I called my doctor, my pharmacist, and made the necessary arrangements. My pharmacy was going to call me when it was ready. I waited. I got anxious, because I had a 7pm MS Ride meeting, and I wanted to eat first, so I called them at 5:30. They told me it would be ready in an hour, so I decided I could eat a hurried meal before said meeting, having picked up my perscription at 6:30.

You know what they say, the best laid plans and all that. I arrived at my pharmacy at 6:35 or so, and saw the line that had formed. Ugh. I took my place, expecting everything to be hunky-dory when I reached the counter. Finally, my impatient wait period was over, and I had the complete attention of the technician. I gave my last name, spelling it out(no one it seems can spell my last name, all of the 6 letters of it). It took 2 minutes before she came back to tell me my order wasn't filled yet and to please have a seat.

So, after a check of my watch(6:43), I sulked over to a patio furniture display in full view of the counter and pretended to be content. Grumble. Finally, after text messages and phone calls about my whereabouts, another check of the watch(6:57), the technician asked for my last name again. I repeated, allowing a bit of steam to be burned off with a rather insolent tone to indicate my unhappiness, my last name. "Oh, it's been ready for 5 minutes.

Five minutes. Five minutes I could have been coralling my MS Team together and getting things set for the meeting. Five minutes.

I know I shouldn't get worked up about things like that. I have a friend who is an honest-to-goodness pharmacist(not like all my "pharmacist" friends from college), and I know the job is more than just counting pills and measuring chemicals. But right then and there, as my blood sugar is dropping and the two year old in line keeps crying and I'm stuck listening to muzak that makes me want to jump out the window and go running to the christian bookstore across the street naked and shouting obscenities, I was pissy.

Isn't it an amazing bit of the human psyche that despite all the other, much graver injustices in the world, a simple wait of 22 minutes can become the worst possible thing to ever happen to a person?


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