This is the post in which I may burst many bubbles. You see, many of you see me as a mostly nice, God-fearing, honest person. But, I am here to tell you today of our secret life - as prescription drug-running mafia crazies. Our Wal-Mart pharmacist has figured us out, and is now suspicious, so I have no doubt you'll read about us on the news in no time at all.
You see, on Tuesday, when I reported about the dreaded Pink-Eye in my oldest child, we saw the earliest cloudy-eyed signs in my younger son, and made the decision to treat him as well. Our Dr. called in a refill to the pharmacy so that we would have enough medicine to treat both kids.
Matt went to our Wal-Mart pharmacy yesterday at 2:00 to pick up the bottle of medicine, so we wouldn't run out over the weekend.
When Matt gets to the front of the always-horrendously-long-line, the cashier informs us that we refilled the prescription too soon, and the insurance wouldn't pay it. Matt explains the situation with both boys having the goop, and asks what his options are. She states that he can pay for it out-of-pocket. How much? Ummmmmm . . . . since it's a generic, it's $4. Of course, Matt says, I will just pay that. Well, we weren't sure you would want to, so we didn't fill it yet - you'll have to wait about 20 minutes.
Isn't that just the luck of the draw? My insurance co-pay is generally $15, which Matt came in prepared to pay. Instead, he only has to pay the generic rate of $4, but apparently the cashier wasn't sure that he would want to pay so much LESS, so she didn't fill the order. FABULOUS.
Matt wanders around Wal-Mart for 1/2 hour, knowing full well that the 20 minutes was only the most optimistic of guesses. It's now 2:30. He has to pick Chance up from school at 3:00. He goes back to the pharmacy counter. Still not ready - another 20 minutes.
Do you realize how dangerous this is - Matt wandering the aisles of Wal-Mart for 1 hour? We both try to stay away from that store, unless we have a specific purpose. Even then, I'm like a horse at the race track - put the blinders on, drive my chariot (or cart) straight to the milk, load it up, make the turn, and head for the cash register. Wandering at Wal-Mart is never, never, NEVER good for our pocket-book. Now, that just goes to show you what a sophisitcated-type family we are - very cosmopolitan!
Okay, now it's too late - Matt has to go pick Chance up from school. He goes and gets him, and heads back to our friendly, Wal-Mart pharmacy.
He get to the front of the above-mentioned always-horrendously-long-line. The cashier tells him that he needs to have a pharmacist counsel. He says no, we are already using this medicine, we don't need one. She says - we need to talk to you about your refill - you refilled too soon. He says - I explained this when I was here before. We are treating both sons.
You still need to talk to the pharmacist - please move over to Window #2.
The pharmacist proceeds with a line of questioning the CSI actors would be in awe of. How in the world had we used this medicine so quickly? Why did we need this refill? We have two sons? Where is the other one? What is his name? What is his birth date? Do they have the same physician?
Apparently, Matt had all the right answers to detective/pharmacist Smarty Pants, because she reluctantly hands over the prescription. But, of course, you can't pay at Window #2, so Matt heads back to the . . . . . .always-horrendously-long-line at the cashier. To pay his $4.
I won't even go into the lady with the cart who cut in front of my 7-year-old son in the express cashier line, as they were trying to purchase a root beer and iced tea for their trip home. Doesn't she know who we are? I mean, we are willing to risk our lives, freedom, and reputations to deceive physicians, smuggle, and re-distribute 1 oz. bottles of coveted Pink Eye medicine. Does she know who she's dealing with? I mean, with this type of boldness, we could be willing to do anything! I wouldn't be messing with us, if I were you!