Pharmacy Fun

Last week I went to the pharmacy.

A pharmacy story! This should be a wild ride.

Kimia, the pharmacist, asked me the standard questions.

I gave her my prescription and she began to type. 

And type. 

And type some more. 

I looked around.

Five minutes later, Kimia was still pressing keys.

Maybe I wasn’t clear. I wanted cough medicine. Not a story about cough medicine.

She looked up and smiled.

Finally!

She returned to typing.

I sighed. I stretched. I yawned.

Clickety, click, click, click.

I coughed, just to remind her why I was there.

“Bless you,” she said.

Good Lord, Kimia didn’t know a sneeze from a cough!

What sort of concoction was I going to end up with?

Her manicured nails danced over the keyboard. “It will be a few more minutes,” she said, then turned and headed to the back of the pharmacy.

Kimia and the other pharmacists huddled around my prescription, whispering in hushed tones.

How special was my cough medicine?

Kimia began typing on another computer.

My cough medicine warranted TWO computers?

The other pharmacists stood behind her as she typed. Like Kimia, all the pharmacists wore their dark hair in a bun (stylish, not librarian), had dramatic, yet flawless makeup, and were model thin.

Was this a pharmacy or a runway?

A short eternity later, Kimia returned. “Your prescription will be ready soon.”

Define soon.

“We’ll text you,” she added, and returned to typing. 

Since the pharmacy was in Target, I decided to shop while I waited.

I hung out in Home & Patio.

No text.

I wandered through Women’s Apparel.

No text.

I dined in the Target café. 

(Only $1.39 for a soft pretzel!)

Also, no text.

Then, on my way to Office & Electronics…

Text: Your RX order is ready for pick up.

Ah, so soon.

When I arrived at the counter, Kimia and her crew had disappeared.

After a few minutes in line, I was greeted by Brad, a gangly middle-schooler. He was wearing the pharmacy outfit so I had no choice but to trust this tween. 

I told Brad my name and date of birth. He typed as if there was a baby bird on each key. When it came to typing, he was no Kimia. He looked up, sweating and fumbling over his words. “Uh, it’ll be just a minute.”

I’ve heard that before.

He headed towards the back of the pharmacy, turned left, paused, turned right, started walking to the front again, turned around…

Was he lost? Was this his first day here? Was this everybody’s first day here?

After four more laps around the pharmacy, Brad stopped in front of a shelf. He looked high, he looked low.

You can do it, Brad!

He sighed and shook his head.

For the love of God, somebody help Brad!

But then, he smiled, nodded, and grabbed a bottle from the top shelf.

I‘ve always believed in you, Brad.

Brad returned with the cough syrup and set it on the counter.

YES!

Studying the label, he wrinkled his nose and shook his head.

NO!

“This has been mislabeled!” he yelled to no one. 

“I’m sure it’s close enough, Brad,” I said.

But Brad and my mystery medicine were already gone.

The line of customers behind me grew. There was grumbling and sighing, and ‘Are you kidding me’s? To make matters worse, the man behind me was right behind me, perfectly acceptable if we were in a mosh pit at a concert, not so in a pharmacy line. I edged up a little, hoping to put some distance between myself and this barbarian. 

I look around for the standard, “Please respect the privacy of other patients and wait here” sign. There was NO sign! I’ve never heard of a pharmacy that didn’t have the sign. 

This place was a free-for-all.

I half turned and coughed, hoping my germs would force this monster to retreat.

He returned the cough.

It was madness.

Brad finally came back, put my medicine in a white lunch bag, and stapled it.

I was free!

But Brad wasn’t ready to let me go. “The pharmacist will need to go over the medicine with you,” he said.

Dorothy, THE pharmacist, directed me to the consultation counter.

I contemplated making a run for it, but Dorothy looked like she might catch me. Dorothy was not like the other pharmacists. She was short, muscular and her bun was all business, possibly ex-military.

“Where’s Kimia?” I asked.

“She’s gone,” Dorothy answered.

Oh, God, they’ve killed Kimia!

Or maybe, she just went to lunch.

Dorothy took the bag out of my hand, and pointed to the attached instructions. “This medicine can be taken with or without food,” she said.

I wasn’t sure if I should nod or salute. 

“But what you really need to know is this medicine will make you VERY drowsy,” she said, locking eyes with mine.

“Yes ma’am,” I said, standing a little taller.

She studied me, not quite sure if I had what it took to purchase cough syrup.

She shook her head before slowly handing over the medicine. “Very, very drowsy,” were her final words.

And with that, I exited the pharmacy. Like a hostage that’s just been released, I walked briskly, head forward, not looking back.

That night I poured the recommended dosage into a teaspoon. Dorothy’s words echoed in my head…very, very drowsy!

It was a little unsettling. I did want the cough medicine to help me sleep, just not forever.

I shouldn’t have worried.

At 3 a.m., I was wide awake, heart racing, and all I could think was, Drowsy, my ass!

The next day I returned to the pharmacy. Brad, Dorothy, Kimia and crew were all there. Hallelujah! But this was no time for a reunion.

 Maybe later.

In the ‘Cold and Cough’ aisle, I saw what I wanted. In less than five minutes, I was on my way.

And my NyQuil and I slept happily ever after.