Sit with me for a minute. Let me tell you a story. What I’m about to tell you happened to me about an hour ago. Dig it:
First, a little back story. My doctor, the lovely lady that attempts to keep me pain free month in and month out, is in different city than the one I reside in. In fact, she’s over a hundred and fifty miles away. The last time I saw Doctor Amy was a month ago. During this appointment she wrote me one prescription, and then another prescription for the same medicine with the caveat that I could not fill the second one until after the 16th of November. This is because the laws have recently changed and she is no longer allowed to write refills for Class 2 narcotics. Knowing I cannot make the trip down to see her every month, she did this out of consideration for my condition. My back does not take long car rides well, and it takes a week for me to recuperate after riding down for my appointments. I know you’re asking yourself, “Well, why doesn’t E get someone local?” and the answer is this: drug abusers. People who abuse the type of medicine I need to function throughout the day. I don’t hate these people. In fact, I used to be one (I guess in a way I will always be one), but things have gotten out of control.
Fast forward to yesterday afternoon. I attempted to fill that prescription Doctor Amy so kindly wrote me. Unfortunately, she wrote in the note section that it should be filled after the 16th and not on. Being that I only get a thirty day supply and there was 31 days last month, that means I’ve been out of my pain pills since the 15th. Not cool, but I can deal. Been through worse, and I know relief is coming. The pharmacist told me to come back after midnight. I thanked her and went home.
Now to the present. I rode down to Walgreens and went inside.I handed the overnight pharmacist my prescription. She glances at the location and automatically says, “This isn’t from our geographic location. I won’t be able to fill this.” I explained my situation to her, but she remained firm. She went on to explain to me all the new rules and regulations that kept her from making an exception for me.
I am not so proud a man that I will lie about crying. I’ve been in a great deal of pain the past two days (some of you that follow me on Facebook will know I went to the ER Friday night because the pain had become too great) and emotionally stressed out. I have four projects currently in the works, and one deadline approaching that I absolutely cannot miss. Home life is great as always, and my family is constantly supportive, but I took on far too much. So yes, I began to cry.
And then something changed. This once stoic pharmacist’s posture softened, and a crooked little grin lifted one side of her mouth. She’d laid my script on the counter in front of me, but now she picked it up, and, without another word, moved to the computer and started typing. My blubbering butt was stunned stupid. I know I looked odd standing there gawking at this woman who had just suddenly decided to do a stranger a solid. She filled my prescription, said that she hoped I got to feeling better, and wished me a goodnight. I thanked her and left.
She didn’t have to do that. And though I devolved into tears, I understood her position. The law’s the law, right? I wasn’t going to ask her to risk her livelihood. Shoot, I can’t even call their hotline to commend her because I’d wind up getting her in trouble if I went into detail. She risked her job and license to help a guy she didn’t know from Adam and restored a bit of that man’s faith in humanity.
With all the terrible tales that cycle through the internet on a daily basis, I thought that, for once, you guys would like to hear a pleasant story concerning a good deed.
Maybe we’re not so bad after all. Well, not all of us, anyway.