“Want your meds? Too bad.”
“Lady. I rode my bicycle from Glendale to pickup a refill. There’s nothing you can do?”
So. That happened. Sometimes, you have to be an a—-hole with state hospitals. They aren’t the most friendliest. I’m on my bicycle. I’m not going to take another half day off of work to go forty miles before 9 AM to pickup a prescription. My meds were supposed to be ready. I’m not just another crazy trying to beat the system. I followed the rules. I did what the lady said and now I’m here. Without. The meds I need to stay alive.
“Can you help me? Like. Look at me when you tell me no.”
The line got longer and quiet. So quiet.
“It’s not your money. Its not my fault I have this medical problem.”
She took my empty pill bottle and went to the back. Then, put another week in there for me. My health insurance only pays for a week at a time. Then, I have to ride my bicycle forty miles to get a refill.