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!
Have asthma inhalers affected your dental health?