I'm pretty pissed off. Not because I spent half my day going through file cabinets full of shit left behind by the last three admins spanning over the last 25 years or because they created a file folder for every single effing thing that ever came up and they used a butt-load of paperclips and metal clippy things, all of which I had to take off in order to put the paper in the shredding bin. No, that isn't why. I'm not even pissed because Ass Kicker made it so I walk like the Hunchback of Notre Dame after today's workout. I'm pissed because I still have thrush in my mouth and I am on my fourth medication. I'm pissed because the pharmacy thinks it is okay to charge someone $60 for aforementioned prescription.
Sure, it isn't the pharmacy's fault that I had a "complication" after my surgery. It isn't the pharmacy's fault that my body decided to revolt in every way possible. The injustice of it all really chaps my ass. It isn't like I was off licking someone's infected body part to contract this. It isn't like I didn't try everything possible to get rid of it. But tonight, when the lady at the pharmacy, that looked a little like this,
advised me that it was going to be $60 bucks, I looked at her and said, "Did you run that through my insurance?" I could barely understand her, but I believe she said yes. She mumbled some more stuff at me that I couldn't really understand. My conclusion was that I was screwed. And then, you can't even check out with your dignity. The stupid card reader wants to know if you want to accept advice from the pharmacy. Then it wants to know if you understand your rights, then you have to check a box saying that you understand your rights. Then you have to agree to the drug, then you have to agree that you denied the pharmacist the right to mumble instructions at you. Sign here. Now put your pin number in...I was poking that damn card reader so hard, I'm pretty sure it is going to need a reboot before the next person uses it.
I decided I need to call those mother trucking, liver licking, scum sucking, ass sniffing, narcotic rapists tomorrow and get to the bottom of this. This is bullshit!
So, I'm driving home, still furious, and the old man in an old Ford truck in front of me turns on his turn signal for no apparent reason. It stayed on for the next five miles. I wanted to ram his truck. I could feel the anger boiling over. I called Will to see if he was home. He was. I told him I was going to first, take out the old fart in the Ford, and then I was going to lynch the pharmaceutical company. I was ranting. He was quiet. The conversation went something like this:
"Can you believe those f*ckers charged me that much?! I'm over it!! From now on, NO MORE prescriptions! I don't care if I get lesions, boils, moles, rashes, infections, my easy bake oven rages with fury or my appendages fall off. I'm not spending one more dime with those assholes! If my arm falls off, I'll just super glue it back on and staple it. Then, if it gets gang green, I will just take the staples out and let it drop off. I have one of those staple remover things at my desk at work. I'm sick of this! I'm going to get real ugly and the only way that we can get through this and have the money to afford Top Ramen is for me to come home and toink your eyes out so that you don't have to look at me being HIDEOUS!!! Do you hear me?!"
Will was quiet, but replied, "I don't think that is the answer." Clearly he doesn't understand that it is going to cost a lot to maintain this body. Sigh. I am going to call them tomorrow though. I'm going to call them money grubbing narcotic rapists. I don't have to take this. They are going to pay, even if that just means the payment is a painful conversation with a pissed off fat girl with thrush in her mouth. This isn't over. Do you hear me MEDCO?! I'm coming for you! Asshats.
I gotta go. I feel tense, and Lord knows I can't afford the medication to make me less tense...
Sure, it isn't the pharmacy's fault that I had a "complication" after my surgery. It isn't the pharmacy's fault that my body decided to revolt in every way possible. The injustice of it all really chaps my ass. It isn't like I was off licking someone's infected body part to contract this. It isn't like I didn't try everything possible to get rid of it. But tonight, when the lady at the pharmacy, that looked a little like this,
I decided I need to call those mother trucking, liver licking, scum sucking, ass sniffing, narcotic rapists tomorrow and get to the bottom of this. This is bullshit!
So, I'm driving home, still furious, and the old man in an old Ford truck in front of me turns on his turn signal for no apparent reason. It stayed on for the next five miles. I wanted to ram his truck. I could feel the anger boiling over. I called Will to see if he was home. He was. I told him I was going to first, take out the old fart in the Ford, and then I was going to lynch the pharmaceutical company. I was ranting. He was quiet. The conversation went something like this:
"Can you believe those f*ckers charged me that much?! I'm over it!! From now on, NO MORE prescriptions! I don't care if I get lesions, boils, moles, rashes, infections, my easy bake oven rages with fury or my appendages fall off. I'm not spending one more dime with those assholes! If my arm falls off, I'll just super glue it back on and staple it. Then, if it gets gang green, I will just take the staples out and let it drop off. I have one of those staple remover things at my desk at work. I'm sick of this! I'm going to get real ugly and the only way that we can get through this and have the money to afford Top Ramen is for me to come home and toink your eyes out so that you don't have to look at me being HIDEOUS!!! Do you hear me?!"
Will was quiet, but replied, "I don't think that is the answer." Clearly he doesn't understand that it is going to cost a lot to maintain this body. Sigh. I am going to call them tomorrow though. I'm going to call them money grubbing narcotic rapists. I don't have to take this. They are going to pay, even if that just means the payment is a painful conversation with a pissed off fat girl with thrush in her mouth. This isn't over. Do you hear me MEDCO?! I'm coming for you! Asshats.
I gotta go. I feel tense, and Lord knows I can't afford the medication to make me less tense...
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