It's a Wonderful Life
I say that after a two hour vicodin assisted nap, of course. Yesterday, the doctor left before Jeanette, the oncology nurse could talk to him about my arm pain, but this morning they conferred and he called in my prescription. CVS was backed up with prescriptions. I told them that my doctor had called one in and they said that they had it, did I want to wait? The wait might be forty minutes. Oh, yes, I said.
I get most of the family prescriptions there and I've chatted a bit with the pharmacist, but I wouldn't say she knows me. I'm not, for example, a regular. I was there last night to try to get a refill on my Tylenol 3's (prescribed at the Cleveland Clinic and filled at the clinic pharmacy.) She called the pharmacy to get the refill transferred but it was six-thirty (I'd been waiting for Jeanette to call) and the Cleveland Clinic Beechwood Pharmacy was closed. I confess, I could not hide my dismay last night when she told me she couldn't fill it--I was so tired of hurting and so dreading another sleepless night. But thanked her for checking, it wasn't her fault.
But, today, in the middle of a snowstorm-is-coming, get-your-meds-refilled-rush today, when the tech called back that I had come in and was going to wait, and I saw her head come up and I heard her say, "Yes, her doctor called." I was afraid she would think I was one of those people who doctor shopped for drugs, since the Tylenols with codeine were from the ENT who did my biopsy and the Vicodin was from Dr. Schnur.
I sat down and five minutes later was paged. Five minutes? The pharmacist came around and said, "I did just want to tell you, don't take the Tylenols when you take the other."
I said no, I had just hoped to use those as a stopgap until I could talk to the doctor, and thanked her. She smiled at me and then went back to where she was working. And then I saw the label on the Vicodin and decided maybe she didn't think I was some druggie, and maybe why my forty minute wait had been reduced to five. The directions are to take 1-2 every six hours for pain after chemo.
I admit, this time I was glad to be the cancer lady.
And now I feel warm and fuzzy and maybe a little loopy, and I probably shouldn't operate any machinery heavier or more complicated than a box of Kleenax, but the world is a wonderful, painfree place.