I had an argument with prescription fulfillment with my ophthalmologist just a bit ago. I was supposed to see my doctor at the end of June, but the appointment was changed to October. My migraine prescription ran out last week, and I thought I was going to be okay without it; I’ve done so well. But no. So I called to get a new prescription, and the woman on the other end of the phone said, “Well, that’s not a prescription an eye doctor would normally write.” I said, “Look. Dr Kedar is an eye doctor in your department. He wrote my original prescription in April. It’s for migraines.” I explained about the appointment getting changed, etc, etc. She didn’t say anything. She was just really very quiet. She took down all the other information she needed and said she would give me a call back. She called back about fifteen minutes later and said, “I faxed your new prescription to your neighborhood Kroger.” I said, “Thanks,” and that was that. Sheesh.
Published by Mari Adkins
Appalachian gothic fiction writer - my works reflect a love of literature flavored by the darkness and magic residing in these ancient mountains. In my spare time, I'm a Simmer, I tumbl, I journal, but I always have a very strange sense of humor. I have lived away from the mountains and lived deep in the mountains. I currently live in Central Kentucky with my lifepartner and his cat. The mountains, their culture, their superstitions, their particular magics, will always be in my blood. View all posts by Mari Adkins