I was going to refill my prescriptions. One of them was more urgent than the other, and of course, that one was not in stock anywhere, nor were any of the recommended substitutes.

I booked an appointment with my doctor who, just like me, started looking through stock. Eventually, she found one that had the same medicine in another dosage, which could be adapted to what I needed, so she wrote a new prescription.

Doctor: “You know, they recommend you to build up a stock now because of situations like this.”

Me: “But I can’t take out that much.”

Doctor: “I’ve written prescriptions to last you for half a year.”

I went to the pharmacy and checked how much I could take out and, as usual, I could only take out medicine for one month and get more when that month neared the end.

Me: “My doctor said she wrote a prescription so I could take out more.”

Pharmacist: “I’m sorry, but the prescription is for one month, and then it can be refilled. But it only says one month at a time.”

Me: “Isn’t it the state recommending that we build up a supply?”

Pharmacist: “Yes, that is correct.”

Me: “So, how am I supposed to do that, then?”

Pharmacist: “Well, your doctor could prescribe you for three months at a time, but then you’d have to wait three months before taking out more, so I honestly don’t know.”

Me: “Could my doctor write that I should have more than three months?”

Pharmacist: “Perhaps, but we aren’t allowed to hand out for more than three months, as that would be illegal.”

Recommendations are good and all, but please make sure we are allowed to follow them.

I work in a large store that also has a pharmacy. I see a customer wandering around holding a paper prescription.

Me: “Are you looking for medication?”

Customer: “The sky is burning, and the platypus god has come back to reclaim his planet!”

Me: “I’m going to take that as a yes. Follow me to the pharmacy!”

I take medication for my ADHD, and because it’s a controlled substance, accessing it can be tricky, between my insurance’s (seemingly ever-changing) rules, state laws, and pharmacy policies. My insurance recently changed where I’m allowed to get my medication, and switching pharmacies was a whole fiasco, so I get anxious just thinking about getting it the next month.

It’s the second month I’ve gone to the new pharmacy. As Thanksgiving approaches, I realize that I only have enough pills to get me through Sunday after the holiday. I figure I’ll call my doctor’s office on Monday before the holiday to make sure it gets sent in before everyone takes the four-day weekend off. The call goes just fine.

On Monday evening, I get an automated call from my pharmacy.

Pharmacy Recording: “Hi, this is [Pharmacy] calling about the prescription for [Medication] for [My Name]. According to your insurance, it’s a little bit too early to fill this prescription. We’ll fill this prescription as soon as we can, and we’ll let you know when it’s ready.”

I figure that’s cool. As far as I know, the pharmacy is open every day this week, including the weekend — just not Thanksgiving itself. I should have my prescription before I run out.

The week goes by, and in between multiple family gatherings (with the in-laws, my family, my in-laws’ extended family, etc.), I refer back to the pharmacy’s app to check on the progress. The message displayed remains the same all week, saying that the prescription has been delayed and is being reviewed by the pharmacist but that no action is required on my part.

Finally, on Saturday, my nervousness is starting to ramp up as I continue to see no updates and only have one pill left. This medication is vital to my ability to function at work, and it really helps me out in other areas of my life, too. I haven’t skipped a day since I started taking it, and I’m very worried that if I do skip a day, all the icky garbage I was struggling with before will come back.

On Sunday, I resign myself to skipping the day so I at least have one pill to get me through my return to work on Monday. At this point, the pharmacy app still shows no further updates. It’s still being reviewed, and there’s still no action required on my part. On Sunday afternoon, I summon up the emotional energy to contact the pharmacy. The automated response I am given just tells me my prescription is still being reviewed, so I summon a few more energy droplets to push through to a human being.

I give the employee who answers the phone all of my relevant information, and I explain to her that I’m down to my last pill.

Employee: “Let me just make sure it’s in stock and that I can refill it for you.”

I wait for maybe a minute.

Employee: “Yeah, we have it in stock, and you’re all set for a refill. I can have it done for you in about an hour, and you’ll get your usual notifications when it’s ready!”

I thanked her and hung up. I got a “prescription ready” notification within thirty minutes.

I have so many questions. The app assured me that no action was required on my part; was that true? Did my call push me to the top of some kind of waitlist? If not, what were they waiting for?

Sometimes (always) I really hate dealing with prescriptions.

My regular pharmacy has closed, so I’ve started sending my prescription to a new one. On my first visit, the only person behind the counter is the pharmacist. We set up a profile in their system to bill my insurance, and then we get to my prescription.

Pharmacist: “That’ll be $500.”

Me: “I beg your pardon?!”

At my previous pharmacy, this same prescription used to run me $35.

Pharmacist: “$500. Cash or credit?”

Me: “Neither! Check your system; something’s wrong.”

She doesn’t even pretend to look at the monitor.

Pharmacist: “There’s no mistake.”

I notice that I am the only person waiting at this time, so I ask her to wait a moment and pull out my phone to do a little investigating. As it turns out, I am allowed to order this drug for home delivery directly from the manufacturer, and it will still go through my insurance. After taking the steps to set up an account and inputting my insurance, I can get my prescription for $30.

I explain all of this to the pharmacist and show her my screen.

Me: “You still say everything’s right?”

Pharmacist: *Still not checking* “Yup.”

Me: “I get that you guys have to make a profit and have expenses like brick and mortar, payroll, and whatnot, but let’s be real. What seems more likely: you mistyped something in the computer, or [Pharmacy]’s markup is over $400?”

Pharmacist: “Are you going to pay or not?”

And that is why I now order my prescription for home delivery.

Related:
*Cries In American*

My two-year-old son was recently diagnosed with a seizure disorder. After a Saturday trip to the emergency room following the original seizure, he is given an order for an emergency medication for the weekend.

As our usual pharmacy is closed on the weekends, it’s sent to one of the local chain pharmacies, which are the only locations open. I receive a text that the order has been received and they are working on filling it, but after an hour and a half, I have no further updates.

Leaving my son with my parents (my husband is still trying to get back from out of town), I head to the pharmacy. The tech looks up the prescription.

Pharmacy Tech: “Oh, we don’t have that one in stock, sorry.”

They start to walk away.

Me: “Wait, hold on. Why wasn’t I notified? And my son just got out of the ER. It’s an emergency seizure med. I need it!”

Pharmacy Tech: “Sometimes our text system doesn’t work. I don’t know what you want me to do.”

Frustrated, I sit down and call one of the four other locations in town. The first one tells me that it’s company policy that I can’t call to see if they have a med; the original location has to do so. I go back to the counter, where the tech is leaning against the computer on her phone with no other customers in line. I explain what the other location told me.

Pharmacy Tech: “Yeah, they’re right.”

Me: “Can you please call and see if anyone has it?”

She rolls her eyes but does so. Turns out, one branch in town has it. She tells me which one and then adds:

Pharmacy Tech: “Oh, but as it’s a controlled med, we can’t send the script over. Only the original doctor can. Also, the store closes in twenty-five minutes.”

I call the hospital on my way out the door. Once I explain the situation, they manage to get the charge nurse on the line. She remembers us and has the doctor send the new script over right away. I run into the store with five minutes to spare but manage to walk out with my son’s medication.

Fast forward six days. After another ER run for a seizure at daycare, an emergency EEG, and a neurology appointment, we finally have a diagnosis and treatment plan, which of course includes meds. Because he’s so little, his antiseizure med needs to be in liquid form. Thankfully, as it’s a Friday, we can have the scripts sent to our usual pharmacy. As I have epilepsy and am in often for meds, they know us well.

My husband and I arrive at the pharmacy an hour after the neurologist sends over the script. One med is ready, but the most important one is not. As you can guess, both my husband’s and my nerves are shot.

Pharmacy Tech: “So, unfortunately, we don’t have [main med] in stock—”

Husband: “Wait, what? But [Son] needs to start it today, and you won’t be open again until Monday! What are we—”

At this point, the main pharmacist comes running over with a phone to his ear. 

Main Pharmacist: “I found some! I found some! Another pharmacy has it! I’m leaving right now to go pick it up! Come back in forty-five minutes, and I’ll have it ready!”

We go do a few errands and return. When we come back, the other pharmacist greets us.

Main Pharmacist: “Okay, all ready to go! Sorry about that. All the antiseizure meds we fill are pills. The last child who was on the liquid form moved away three years ago, and this is the first time since then that we’ve had a script for it. But now that we know [Son] is prescribed it, we have it on regular order so we will always have it in stock!”

I thanked them and walked out of there crying. I’ve convinced several of my friends to switch to this pharmacy due to their excellent customer service. After my experience at the chain pharmacy, I am grateful for the kindness and caring of ours.