In September of 2023, I finally got started on proper ADHD medication to help me manage my symptoms and actually allow me to focus on getting stuff done for once in my life. The results were dramatic and exceptional, and I’ve always been zealous about ordering more long before I run out.

This whole drama played out over about two months, between October and December of 2024.

October 2024:

I placed an order, as usual, via the provider’s mail-order pharmacy. I received the typical notification that it would ship within three to five business days and arrive within two weeks. This was what I had expected, and there were no red flags thus far, so I didn’t even give it a second thought. At that point, I was unconcerned, as I had over a month’s supply left and plenty of leeway for any delays.

November 2024:

Two weeks passed, and I heard nothing, so I checked the mail-order pharmacy again and found that the order had been canceled without note. That was annoying, but I keep a reserve supply specifically to cover these kinds of problems, so it wasn’t the biggest deal. I placed the order a second time and once again received the same email that the order was successful.

Another two weeks passed, and I once again had seen no update, so I checked the pharmacy to find that the order had been canceled once again. This time, it was a problem. I had ordered five weeks before my prescription expired, and I only had enough reserve for one week beyond the end date, which at that point was only a week away. I sent an email to my psychiatrist asking for follow-up and instructions on what to do. I received a response from her office telling me to go to an in-person pharmacy and fill the prescription there.

The advice seemed sound, so I made time and stopped by after a routine doctor’s visit, which was in the same building. When I tried to fill the prescription, however, I was told that they couldn’t fill it because the mail pharmacy had never voided the order, meaning it was still stuck mid-processing. This was a problem, so I once again asked the psychiatrist for advice. I was told to call the mail-order pharmacy directly and get the issue solved. I did this, and I was able to place an order directly over the phone which, as far as I was aware, was the end of the problem. But, of course, it was not.

December 2024:

I was getting nervous. I had found another four-day supply of my medication that I had taken on vacation and forgotten about, which gave me more time, but not much.

Then, the day before I ran out, I checked the app one more time to hopefully get a firm delivery date only to find that the pharmacy had, once again, canceled my order. This triggered a full-scale panic, as I realized that I really was out of time, and I wouldn’t be able to work the next day without the medication. Fortunately, I managed to redirect my blind panic into productive problem-solving.

I called the pharmacy, but it was a Sunday and they were closed. Same for the psychiatrist and the pharmacy call center. With no options left, I called the provider’s mental health crisis line. Fortunately, they are open twenty-four-seven, so I got a person who was able to understand the problems. She reached out to the pharmacy directly and managed to get through to the pharmacist that this was a crisis situation; I had already shared with her that the mental health outlook was very bleak if I didn’t get this medication.

She called me back and told me that the pharmacy had two-thirds of the prescription, but due to DEA (Drug Enforcement Administration) rules, was unable to fill a partial. Instead, she managed to get an on-call doctor to issue a prescription for a single day. This wasn’t a solution, but it was better than nothing.

I went into the pharmacy to get the prescription filled less than five minutes after it was called in. They took my information and then directed me to wait, which was normal. However, I noticed quickly that they had begun to call numbers later than mine — skipping right over me, even though my prescription was very simple. Within fifteen minutes, I was the only customer left in the entire pharmacy.

Finally, I got called back up to the window, stressed and very annoyed. The pharmacy tech handed me the bottle, and I noticed that it contained not the three pills I was told I would receive, but rather all of the medication that they had on hand. Suddenly, the reason for the long wait made more sense. They had managed to bend the rules and give me a long-term solution by “ruining” my prescription — that is, filling it as though it was the entire prescription, but “accidentally” underfilling it with all that they had. My psychiatrist’s office was notified and validated their solution the next day, telling me to simply send an early request before I ran out again to get back on my normal refill cycles.

In the end, the crisis was averted, but never before had I experienced anything resembling such malpractice from the pharmacy or any medical provider. The biggest takeaway from this ordeal is not to trust the mail-order pharmacy anymore; I’ll take the extra time to go in person and get my medications handed to me directly.

I work in the student health office at a college. A student wanders in.

Student: “I’ve got a question. Do I need to get the shot for the weasel disease?”

Front Desk: “I can’t… The… What?”

Student: “‘Cause my brother just got a shot for it, and I don’t know if I had it.”

Front Desk: *Long pause* “Do you mean the flu shot?”

Student: “No, the weasel rash.”

My boss finally intervenes.

Boss: “Can I ask — how old is your brother?”

Student: “He’s four.”

Boss: “Do you mean measles?“

Student: “Do I?”

The student was satisfied when we helped him determine that he had all his childhood vaccines AND that there really was no disease called “weasel bumps”.

I recently had a biopsy done on a suspicious mole, and about a week afterward, I start experiencing severe searing pain where the procedure was done. I decide to err on the side of caution and call my healthcare provider.

Receptionist: “Thank you for calling [Hospital]. How can I help you?”

Me: “I’m hoping to make an appointment, possibly with urgent care. I had a skin biopsy done last week and am experiencing pain at the biopsy site, and I want to make sure it’s healing okay.”

Receptionist: “You have pain in your thigh?”

It takes me a second to fully register what she said, but I eventually recover and try again to explain, figuring she just misheard me.

Me: “No, I had a skin biopsy. The biopsy was on my back, near my shoulder blade.”

Receptionist: “Oh, so you have pain in your shoulder?”

Me: “I HAVE AN OPEN WOUND ON MY BACK AND IT FEELS LIKE IT’S ON FIRE!”

Receptionist: “…Um, let me transfer you to the advice nurse.”

Me: “Thank you.”

CONTENT WARNING: Vomit

My mother told me this story. I’m the middle child in my family. After I was born and was on formula, I threw up a lot. My mother complained to the pediatrician that there was something wrong medically.

Doctor: “Babies throw up. It’s normal. He’ll be fine.”

Mom: “My first child urped once in a while, but this is different. He really throws up hard, and a lot.”

Doctor: “I’ll change the formula. Try this.”

He handed her a new formula prescription.

A week later, I was losing weight, way underweight, and still throwing up. Mom insisted on the doctor seeing me and took me in again.

Doctor: “All right, let’s see how he likes this formula.”

Mom fed me a few spoonfuls of formula. After a few seconds, I spewed it across the room and all over the doctor.

Doctor: “My God! That’s projectile vomiting. Why didn’t you tell me?! He could have died!”

The doctor diagnosed me with pyloric stenosis, a fairly common genetic defect of the valve between the stomach and duodenum, and did surgery the next day to correct it. I turned out fine.

This happened before the global health crisis. I ended up with bronchitis which progressed to pneumonia. I went to urgent care, and the doctor on call gave me an antibiotic and a prescription non-narcotic cough suppressant that came in tiny circular gel caps. I cannot take traditional cough medicine or decongestants due to medication I’m on for a chronic condition, so I was thankful to finally get some relief.

A year later, I start to feel the same symptoms again. I call my regular doctor immediately and leave a message with the nurse. I tell her exactly what worked the last time, and she says she’ll pass the message on. About one hour later, she calls back.

Nurse: “[Doctor] called in the antibiotic.”

Me: “And the [cough suppressant]?”

Nurse: “He said he’s not calling in a narcotic.”

Me: “Huh? It’s not a narcotic.”

Nurse: “Just take [traditional cough medicine].”

Me: “I can’t take that. I’m on [medication]. They interact.”

Nurse: “Well, you’re not getting a narcotic from us.”

Me: “For the love of… It’s not a narcotic!”

Nurse: “[Doctor] says it is.”

Me: “Is he there?”

Nurse: “Yes, but—”

Me: “Do me a favor. Tell him to Google [cough suppressant].”

Nurse: “It’s not going to help.”

Me: “Humor me and ask him. I’ll wait.”

Nurse: “Hold on.”

I hear muffled voices and a keyboard clicking. The nurse comes back on the line.

Nurse: “We have determined that [cough suppressant] is not a narcotic. I will call the prescription in. It should be ready in one hour.”

When I got to the pharmacy, I discovered that they’d ordered half a normal prescription’s worth, but it was just enough to get me through, so I took my win and didn’t push it. I have a much better doctor now.