Darlings, the last couple of days have just been a whirl of glam doctor visits and many, many trips to the pharmacy. For one thing, our insurance company refused to refill R Man’s pain medicine, saying he’d uses the first one up too fast. “What’s it to you, you old biddy?” I wanted to ask, but instead back to the doctor for a new scrip and then back to the thrilling Walgreen’s on Castro Street.
Walgreen’s on Castro is 24 hours and big ass big, it churns out so much medicine it makes the Mayo Clinic look like 7-11, so we always go there. Unfortunately, so do plenty of other people, people struggling with English as a Second Language, and people struggling with Too Loaded to Stand Up and, worst of all, people struggling with You Are Too Stinky to Stand So Close to Me, Would You Back the Fuck Up, Please?
So, multiple trips later, meds all straighten out, pretty much, and this morning a jaunt down for an MRI to have a look see at R Man’s back. Since his back pain is so severe he can’t sit in the car, I made a bed in the back seat for R Man. He was very flattering about how luxurious it made the experience. The staff at eh MRI were nice and I abandoned him to their tender mercies while I went down to Sweet Inspiration on Market Street for a mixed berry Danish. Mmmm, delish.
Walking back, I realized the cold I’ve had all week was making the trek up a weeny ass little hill an absolute ordeal. I had asked my doctor yesterday for cough syrup since I can’t stop hacking once I get going and he insisted I come in this afternoon. Oh boy, another trip to the doctor. He listened to the swampy sounds my lungs seem to be making and announced I have bronchitis. Of course, yet another trip to Walgreen’s for antibiotics and cough syrup. And stinky, fucked-up guys who can’t speak English.
Our last medical visit of the week will be one to the neuro-surgeon tomorrow to read R Man’s MRI and see about treatment. I take it as a matter of faith a prescription will be involved. If I spend any more time in Walgreen’s, I plan on demanding retirement rights and stock.
As for the illustration here, thanks to Jason over at Night is Half Gone for reminding me of Cherry Ames, Nurse Bitch. Isn’t she just the picture of lovingly, but firmly reprimanding the distinguished looking patient for being such a sissy about rectal thermometers?