Speaking with Actual Humans
I take stock of my medicines splayed out across the counter, inside a bag, atop a basket containing more medications. For once, the stars have aligned: I am close to needing refills on almost all of my meds at once: six of eight (or ten, depending on if you count two different forms one medicine, and two different doses of one another, as one or two). I contemplate just calling and speaking to a real live human being, as I often do in this situation.
Instead, determined not to speak to a human, I grab a sheet of paper and a pen and note down the six seven-number codes.
(Unrelated note: One day years ago, my friend Tara told me my writing should be a font. I have since made it into a font.)
To use our automated prescription refill services, press 1-1.
Please enter the 7 digit Rx number located at—
To request another refill, please press 1—
[Repeat four times as the numbers on the sheet somewhat began jumbling together in my brain.]
Your refill request cannot be completed. Please wait while we transfer you to a pharmacy team member.
I was trying to avoid the people! First, my online refill account never works so I don’t even try to use it, and now when I use the phone system, it still makes me talk to a human!
The human was very nice, fortunately. She could see I had already gotten four prescriptions in. She noted I only had one refill left of the medication which had kicked me out of the automated system, and as I had last received two refills, thus confusing the computer’s concrete-thinking brain. I refilled my last two prescriptions, wishing I’d refilled the Vyvanse first because we had to have a discussion that yes I indeed wanted the 50 mg dose (for weekdays) not the 40 mg dose (for weekends).
Note to self: prioritize your refills in case you do need to talk to a human.
And, not only that, I was going to refill my Nasonex, but I couldn’t find the prescription number, so I was just going to get it off the printout when I pick up this batch of meds and refill it then, so I didn’t write it down. Then, since I was talking to a human, I could very easily have requested this med and totally forgot. So I now face the decision of having to wait or calling back and speaking to another human, and not having to return to the pharmacy an extra time...
Well, I guess, now that I have spoken to the pharmacy human, I should return to my quest from Saturday called Speaking to a Human From the Semi-Functional Bank to Receive a New Debit Card, As Mine Is Lost…
I will give it to them: at least the pharmacy worked better than the bank had—I spoke to a real live human immediately after the transfer. On Saturday with the bank, I pressed 5 for "lost card in need of replacement", was warned they were experiencing a higher than normal call volume, and told I could be served better next time if I had entered my card number—recall: pressing 5 for lost card I do not have—and then was told after 13 minutes there were more than 10 callers ahead of me… and hanging up.
It’s really a strange scenario when the bank should learn something from the pharmacy… Though they have many things in common, namely, sucking up moments of my life that I will never get back: waiting in line, waiting for them to make phone calls to provide me services, or making me return for some reason or another!
Do you get muscle cramps caused by your asthma medicine?