My wife is a little under the weather and unfortunately so am I. She asked me if I could get her some Sudafed when she found out I was going to see the doctor. I told her I would try. She stopped me, looked me straight in the eye and said she needed the real stuff...not the fake crap they keep on the shelves. She needed the forbidden Sudafed that they keep behind the counter at the pharmacy. I told her I would see what I could do...
I became sick last week and it hit me in a rather strange way. I'm sitting at my desk at work and suddenly my nose feels like someone shoved Hot Tamales into my nostrils. Not a pleasant feeling, I must say. I'm twitching and sniffling, trying whatever I can do to make the burning stop. And just like that - it stops. I tell myself it's just allergies. It's nothing serious. But that night as I'm trying to sleep, I just cannot maintain my body temperature - hot then cold and back again. After that, I realize I'm probably getting sick but I still won't accept the truth so I go to work anyway. And I can feel this bastard coming on like a freight train, my head is stuffed up and I'm coughing and my eyes are watering but I just keep telling myself, "Just get through the next hour and you'll be fine." But I know deep down, I'm not fine. I'm sick.
To make a long story short, I end up calling off work on Friday and searching for a doctor to help cure my ailment (I know...woe is me and all that jazz). So I call the clinic and say I'd like to schedule an appointment today and the nurse nearly laughs at me. She says she can get me in next Wednesday and I'm like, "But I'll be better by then..." So after some negotiating and me hanging up and then calling back again, I agree to the Wednesday appointment with Dr. Garcia.
Fast forward to Wednesday...yes, I've been going to work because I'm still of the mindset that I'm not that sick. I come in an hour early so I can make up for lost time when I go to the doctor later on in the morning. Eventually I get to leave work and I drive to the clinic. It's a sunny day but it's cold because we live in
There's an older gentleman seated next to me and he begins to talk in spurts. I really don't understand what he's talking about but I nod and laugh politely. I tend to do that in awkward situations...laugh politely. I get my paperwork done and hand it to the nurse who makes some joke about how difficult it must have been to learn how to spell my last name.
When I sit back down, I pick up an issue of Sports Illustrated...not because I'm a sports fan. Anyone who knows me, knows I don't follow sports at all. No, it's a sign. It's a sign for the chatty old weird guy that I don't want to talk. So I sit and I look at the pretty pictures and wouldn't you know it I get called in by the nurse. So I follow her down a winding hallway and she leads me to a closet. The nurse makes me sit down in the closet and shuts the door. Ok, so it's not a closet - it's an exam room.
The thing is though - there's all these cartoon animals on the walls. Monkeys, lions, bears and an alligator. And yes I can tell it's an alligator and not a crocodile because crocs have narrower, more v-shaped snouts (thank you very much, Crocodile Hunter, may you rest in peace). And on the ceiling, pasted over one of the fluorescent lights, is a picture of hot air balloons. So I'm a little perplexed as to why I'm sitting in a waiting room for a little kid? And I'm wondering if this is some sort of elaborate joke or if they're just trying to make me feel uncomfortable.
But then the nurse comes in and she takes my vitals. Blood pressure, temperature and she asks me some general questions. She apologizes for making me wait (which I think I waited like 5 minutes so I'm wondering how impatient their other patients must be). She departs and I wait another 10 minutes maybe. Then there's a knock at the door and I'm like, "Come in?" And Dr. Garcia finally walks in.
He's a jovial kind of guy, very friendly and chatty and I like him from the get-go. He's got a bit of an accent but he's easy to understand. Anyway, he asks me what's wrong and I tell him. I should back up here - see by this time, I was done with the coughing and the runny nose but now I was left with a lot of sinus pressure and my right eye seems to have sprung a permanent leak. Ok, now you're caught up. I tell him the same thing I told you...maybe not exactly the same way but he got the point.
Dr. Garcia has me take a seat on the exam table and I listen to the crinkling sound of the sanitary paper as I sit. He takes out a tool and sticks it up my nose gently. And I hear him gasp. And he says, "You said you're not blowing your nose any longer?" And I reply, "Yes." And he shakes his head, "Wow, you are extremely congested. I'm surprised you're not blowing your nose." And I don't know how to react to this. I felt like I should run over and blow my nose for good measure but he moves on then and inspects my ears (with a different tool...I think ). He presses his hands against my forehead, asks me "Do you feel pressure?" and I'm like, "Yeah." And he takes a step back before he declares, "You have a sinus infection." And I nod once, not really surprised but happy to get it confirmed.
He writes me up a 'script. See what I did there? I turned "prescription" into 'script. Pretty cool, huh? All I need now is the white lab coat and I too could be a doctor. Anyway, he says he'll FAX it to my pharmacist which I think is very handy. He shows me the way out of the clinic and I check out.
Fast forward to me going to the pharmacy. There's a guy in front of me but he doesn't take long. And soon I'm standing before the pharmacist. She's a short gal with cropped brown hair wearing a floral pattern jersey and pink pants. She asks me in a very pleasant voice, "Can I help you?" And I say, "Yes, I'm picking up a prescription for Schwartzkopf, Josh." She turns around and finds it and then turns back to me. She places two white paper bags before me: one is an inhaler and the other is antibiotics. I know this because that's what Dr. Garcia told me I was getting. She then asks me if I have insurance and I say "Yes" and hand over my card. She takes it and begins typing the information into her computer.
I happen to look down at the price tags on my medications and my eyes nearly pop out of my head. The inhaler is only $15 but the antibiotics are listed at $68. I'm shaking my head and figuring out the math, making sure I have enough to cover it in my bank account. Then she steps over, takes those meds and disappears for a moment. When she comes back, she has the same meds but the prices have magically dropped down to ridiculously low amounts...it was like $5 for the inhaler and $15 for the antibiotics and I'm ready to jump for joy.
And that's when I remember that my wife is also under the weather and she wants the real Sudafed...not the fake stuff on the shelf.
So when the nice pharmacist lady asks, "Is there anything else I can help you with today?" I mention my need for Sudafed and I gesture to the stuff behind the pharmacy desk, on the shelf behind her. She smiles and says she'd be happy to get it for me. She retrieves the box and sets it down on the counter and then says, "Of course, I'll need to see some ID." I'm happy to oblige her. She examines my Driver's License to make sure I'm old enough to buy cold medicine. She hands back the ID and then scans the Sudafed.
"Alright, now if you'll just read the disclaimer on the machine in front of you and check the box..." She says, gesturing to the card reader on the counter. I read the disclaimer and it's a bunch of gobbledegook and legal jargon so I click the "Accept" box. It changes to a signature prompt and as I reach for the pen connected to the machine, I hear the pharmacist say: "You just have to sign to say you won't use it for anything naughty." And I have to keep myself from laughing. I knew right then that this friendly woman must be a mother because only a mother would say to a grown man "you won't use it for anything naughty". Instead, I smile and I attempt to sign my name but it's impossible on those mechanical boxes.
I proceed to pay for my stuff (and my wife's stash) and I head on out of the pharmacy. On the drive back home, I'm chuckling to myself and it suddenly dawns on me. I just scored drugs for my wife. I'm not sure how I feel about it but I wonder if that's how other drug dealers got started in the "business". Was the Sudafed a gateway drug? Only time will tell I guess...
So that's my story and I'm sticking to it. Hope you enjoyed it. I'll try to post more in 2012...
