About seven days after the jellyfish attack we were staying at a Marriott in Concord, North Carolina and had been enjoying visiting with our NC family. But my arm was looking worse, and the desire to tear the flesh away to alleviate the searing pain of simultaneous itching and burning were proving to be too much to bear. My husband was playing golf with my Dad and Uncle, and since all other NC family was working, I decided it was best to forgo joining them and spend the day with my mom and the kids. We made it to breakfast and a quick trip to the mall before I sought out a CVS where I could talk to a pharmacist and get some OTC assistance.
For whatever reason, I was adamant about going CVS. One exit down from our hotel (thank you GPS) I found one. As luck would have it they had a One Minute Care Clinic. While waiting 30 “one-minutes” to be seen, my husband called explaining that my uncle’s friend had just shown up to the course, and he and my Dad wanted to play another nine holes. Grimacing slightly at being backed into a corner (my husband I could say no to; my dad…not so much), I agreed. When I eventually saw the Dr, she took one look at me and said, “Sorry Hon, I can’t help you. You need a steroid and you’re only getting that at an urgent care facility. The good news is there is one right next door!” I made a failed attempt to call my husband back to ask him to skip the additional nine. I wanted him to relieve my mom, but they were already on the course. Dang!
Now while all this was going on, my poor mom was sitting in the car with my son who luckily was sleeping, and my daughter who was a little less than thrilled to be trapped in the vehicle. I thanked the Dr and drove a block over to the Urgent Care place. My mom didn’t want to wake the baby, and chose to stay in the car with the kids. There was no one in the waiting room besides one family. I had visions dancing in my head of getting in and out of there in a half an hour.
After speaking with the less than pleasant receptionist (who didn’t even acknowledge my presence at first), filling out all the necessary paperwork, and settling back in my seat I looked out the window to see my mother with Sofia out of the car, holding Dominic, and struggling to get the stroller open. After running out after them and bringing them into the office I still had enough time to get them settled, feed Dom a jar of food, take Sofia to the potty, and read her several books before they finally called me in.
Saw the nurse, explained what happened, and tried not to think bad thoughts as she exclaimed, “Wow, I’ve never seen a jellyfish bite before.” I waited some more, saw the Dr, and had to actually convince him it was a jellyfish that had done me in. My inability to confirm the sight of the attacker left him skeptical. Eventually he put me on a steroid and itch-meds and sent me on my way…back to CVS.
By this time both my kids were playing relatively calmly with my worn looking mother. I paid the once again not so friendly receptionist, and decided it was best to leave everyone there while I drove next door to quickly fill the scripts. Everyone was overdue for a much needed nap. The pharmacist, however, took one look at my scripts, and informed me that they did not have that particular steroid. The doctor had prescribed for me one of the rarest out there. She said she could call around but would probably be hard pressed to find it at another CVS. I explain that I’m not from around here and didn’t want to be driving around all over the place, and she agreed the best action was to get the doc to change the prescription to one of the several acceptable alternatives they had on hand. I can only suspect that she got the less than thrilled to be employed by Urgent Care receptionist, because whoever was on the phone gave her a rather hard time. The instruction was I should go somewhere else because I was prescribed that drug for a reason…i.e. go find it. She tells the pharmacist to send me to a Walgreens nearby. The one problem plaguing me in the back of my mind while this was playing out…Tony had my prescription card. I’m in the CVS system only. I tell a quick lie to shut her up that my prescription plan doesn’t cover Walgreens and to give me something else. Mean Receptionist Lady tells the pharmacist that she will have to wait til she can interrupt the Dr and see if he would be willing to alter the script. While I’m waiting another half hour for the pharmacist to get the call back, my cell phone rings.
It’s that mean receptionist lady actually calling to what I could only interpret as bully me into ensuing my quest for the rare miracle steroid. She indicated that the doctor was adamant I take that particular drug and to suck it up and go somewhere else. What proceeded was an outburst on my part that had been itching to come out for the last seven days and went something like this (insert pissed off RI accent and elevated voice here):
“I am standing here in the CVS waiting for you to call back the pharmacist with a new script. You know I’m not from around here. I don’t have my prescription card on me and have no intention of driving around looking for a CVS that has it, or going somewhere else only to pay full price. By the way…that’s my son crying in your waiting room, so if you want to get him out of there, I suggest you get the Dr to change the script.”
“We’ll get right on it ma’am.”
