Ugh!
After forty minutes at the pharmacy yesterday, finding out that the ointment McCreepy prescribed was not available, and that the man refused to prescribe the equivalent eyedrop because he didn’t want to (but I have pretty eyes. Jerkwad), and that no pharmacy near by had the ointment, Hubby was unable to pick up my prescription last night because the skies decided to let loose with more freaking snow last night.
Ugh!
This afternoon after a joyous adventure with my BFF (I so need to do a different post about this, because it was awesome and joyous and totally worthy of its own pleasant post instead of being crammed into a parenthetical in my McCreepy rant), I went to Target to fill my script. They had the ointment (fantastic), the wait was fifteen minutes (not horrible), and when I went to check out I found out my looooooooovely eye goop was $60! It’s this itty bitty teensy tiny tube.
I said to the pharmacist, “Out of curiousity, how much did the eyedrops cost?”
“Four dollars,” she told me.
Ugh!
You have got to be kidding me. Then I asked, “Tell me, is there something fabulous about this ointment that makes it $56 better than the drops?” Poor woman, it was like a deer in the headlights – “It works a bit faster.” I know it’s not the poor pharmacist’s fault – she can only give me what the stupid prescription said, and my eyes hurt so bad that I just can’t wait until Monday to make him write me something else.
But, come Monday, he’ll be hearing from me. What an asshat. I think that his impractical script writing methods on top of his skeevy compliments have made me ever more convinced that I will never subject myself to the medical “expertise” of this man again, and I intend to let the office manager know. My primary doctor is tough to get an appointment with, but at least she’s not inept.
Ugh!
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