Whatever She’s On, It’s Not Strong Enough

, , , , , | Right | November 25, 2020

I have clinical depression and anxiety. It isn’t fun and has gotten worse since having children. I am in therapy and take a carefully prescribed amount of medication which keeps me functional.

One day, I am at the pharmacy getting a refill on my meds. I have been waiting for about twenty minutes when another woman comes up and hands in her prescription.

We wait together, but the woman next to me — who has been waiting two minutes at this point — starts to gripe and moan about how long it’s taking.

Pharmacist: “[My Name], your meds are ready, if you want to come to the window.”

Woman: “That’s me! That’s me!”

Pharmacist: “Ma’am, you just handed in a prescription and I know for a fact that your name is not [My Name].”

Woman: “Just give me my medicine so I can go!

Me: “Excuse me? Can I get through?”

Woman: “I’m next!”

Pharmacist: “Here you go, [My Name].”

I take the meds and pay, but before I can put them in my bag, the crazy lady swipes them!

Pharmacist: “Hey! Give those back!”

Me: “Those are mine, you lunatic!”

The woman starts to open the bag and rifle through my medicine as the cashier/pharmacy assistant comes around the till and tries to convince the woman to stop and give my medicine back.

Woman: “Woah, boy! There’s a lot of antidepressants in here! Are you suicidal or what?”

Cashier: “The police are on their way. If you don’t hand over that woman’s medicine—”

A previously unseen pharmacist calls out.

Pharmacist: “[Woman], your meds are ready.”

The woman drops my paper bag full of meds onto the floor, spilling the pill packets out of the boxes, and skips up to the counter to merrily pick up her medicine.

We watch her leave with a massive smile on her face.

I got a gift card for my troubles and the CCTV footage was turned over to the police. I don’t know what happened to her.

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