A couple of weeks ago, I went in to fill a prescription for Restasis; the outrageously expensive eye drops for the rich and famous. I thought it looked weird - it wasn't signed by the doctor. I figured the pharmacist and I would have a chuckle over it and she'd call and...
You can see where this is going.
Instead I was met with suspicion. The Pharm tech called over for a higher authority, and they both looked me up and down. She spoke kindly, to be sure, but I could tell she was handling me. She turned to her computer, typing madly, like they do in movies, making conversation about being unaware of Restastis being available OTC, but she would be willing to check for me. I think I turned my head sideways at her, wondering why she was looking for something we both knew didn't exist so I said just that.
Clearly she thought I was crazy. She asked if it was for my kids; she asked me what I wanted her to do. I felt like I was robbing a bank. Poorly I might add.
She insisted that she call the doctor. She insisted that I go back to the eye doctor for another appointment. And though I apologized for getting snappy with her, I had had enough.
She kept my prescription.
I didn't know eye drops had recreational purposes.
I left angry and frustrated. Sure, I knew I would make one call to my doctor and I would get the drops. I didn't question that. But the nonsense of dealing with one pharmacy after another, after a doctor's office and HIPPA and copays and reading the fine print and researching - it feels like a waste of time. One I can't completely escape. In the end, like taxes, they have ya over the barrel.
It makes my dry eyes want to bleed.
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