I was diagnosed with Crohn’s disease when I was just 7 years old. At the time, all I knew was that I was sick and needed to get better so I could start second grade on time. Now that I’m 32, I’ve learned that sometimes, the physical symptoms of a chronic illness are actually easier to manage than all the paperwork, insurance stuff, too-long wait times at the doctor followed by too-short in-person visits, and, of course, trying to get the medicine you need, when you need it, in an amount you can actually afford to pay. For me, that has meant complete emotional breakdowns—on more than five occasions—at the pharmacy counter, begging for my medicine, and then calling the insurance company and, again, begging for them to find whatever approval they needed (because I swear my doctor sent in that prescription) in order to fill it for me. Because when you’re sick, whether it’s with a cold or a chronic, debilitating illness, the only thing that matters is getting better—and oftentimes that’s a multi-step process. There are a lot of hoops to jump through, battles to choose, and people to reason with when it comes to getting proper care. I know I’m not the only one with frustrating, happing, crazy, or quirky stories from the pharmacy counter. So here are six more. “I picked up my birth control at the pharmacy and, by default, read the instructions and the label because I have a habit of reading everything. My pill, which came in a 90-day pack, had an expiration date—one month away! I promptly ran back to the pharmacist and showed it to her. She was very nice and quickly got me a new one. I’m not sure who dropped that ball, but I’m glad I caught it. PSA, ladies and gentlemen, always read the label!” —Jeri K., New York, NY “I asked the pharmacist to confirm that the medicine I was given was definitely gluten-free because I have Celiac disease—yes, actually diagnosed by a specialist—and her answer was, ‘Well even if it does, it’s just a small pill, so it would only be a little bit.’ Um... yeah...” —Erica R., Philadelphia, PA “I’ve been really unwell for the past few months, so at this point, the pharmacist and pharmacy tech at my local CVS have memorized my name, date of birth, and my address. They apologize if they forget a single piece of it. They’re super nice and always ask about my life—which isn’t a problem, but it definitely seems to weird out the other customers in line. Granted, I did scare one of them when I begged them to fill out my medicine ASAP because I needed it desperately. It was prescribed for nausea and I couldn’t stop throwing up—but I found out later that it’s actually an antipsychotic. I think he was worried I was losing it right there at the counter, but really I was just sick of puking!” —Carly M., Boston, MA “I once went to get a pregnancy test with one of my best guy friends. He’s married, but I wasn’t at the time, and was freaking out that my boyfriend (not my best friend) might have knocked me up. As the woman at the register rang me up, I caught her looking at my friend’s wedding ring—and my lack of one—and she raised an eyebrow high into her hairline. It probably didn’t help that my friend also picked up the tab. We walked away and realized we didn’t really think that transaction through!” —Wendy Z., San Francisco, CA “I was in Florida and went to pick up my three-month prescription of Klonopin at Walgreens. They wouldn’t give it to me because, as they said they ‘Don’t sell street drugs here.’ I laughed, walked out, and haven’t visited a Walgreens for prescription purposes since. And let me tell you, I’m sure street drugs are way more fun than the lowest possible dosage of Klonopin!” —Jenny P., Philadelphia, PA “I’ll always remember the pharmacist who stood behind his desk instead of approaching the counter, forcing me to scream what my prescription was for—and, of course, it was my monthly birth control. And of course there was a line four people deep hearing the entire conversation of, ‘When did you order it? What’s your last name again? And what’s it for? Do you know how to use it?’ So much for privacy!” —Caitlyn P., San Diego, CA Source
