Goddamn American Hero

A recap: I counted my pills last week and realized I was going to run out of medication when I’m home, which is only slightly terrifying because the only time I went off meds after being on them was when I dove into a 3-month spiral of doom that ended in self-harm past the mental state and a higher prescription (wee the system works!). So… Called the doctor to get a refill and tried to pick it up yesterday. Pharmacy says I can’t get a refill until 12/24. I leave 12/24. Call the doctor again, they move the date up. Pharmacy tells the doctor that’s all fine and dandy, but my insurance is saying hells no. Call my insurance and they’re all, “naw man it’s chill”. 

Cut to: Pharmacy – Night. 

Line. There’s always a line at the pharmacy. Just rows and rows of frustrated sick people. The pharmacist at the end of it blatantly ignores everything I’m saying and spouts information like a programmed machine. One more point to drones running the world. 

Dude finally calls my insurance and again ignores important information I have to give him – like my insurance group number or, you know, any identification for who I am. He asks for my phone number. I’m looking him right in the eyes as he writes down none of it. He asks for my phone number.

Fast-forward to more waiting.

A homeless lady is on the verge of tears because after weeks, her insurance finally clears, but the pharmacy doesn’t have the medication in stock. She can't go to another pharmacy without starting the process all over again. Another sad pharmacist is trying to deal with this lady screaming at him for asking her address. Of course, he’s only asking this information to correctly validate her identity, but it’s using an additional 2.5 seconds of her time, so we can't have any of that. Five people in a row are tapping their phones.

I get back in line after 30-minutes or so and the guy nonchalantly says, “Oh yea it’s ready” – as if I hadn’t been sitting right in front of him, waiting, staring him down for the past half hour. Couldn't flag me down or give me a heads up? Yup. Great. Back in line. After nearly two hours at the pharmacy, it takes all my strength not lose my shit like the lady with her ten orphan Christmas babies. I smile. I crack a joke. I try my best to be a decent human because I’m a fucking good person. A goddamn American hero.