I had a text from the pharmacy ate 12.25 pm. I had tried to ring them in the morning but they were permanently engaged.
By 2.00 there was a queue of about twenty people. Or maybe ten, on reflection, but it felt like twenty. So I went to TESCO to use the cash machine. Two have been shut down due to social distancing, and the third wasn’t working. Next I tried Sainsbury’s, again the only working machine wasn’t working. If that makes sense you have, like me, been in lockdown too long.
Back to the pharmacy…
The queue was down to one person, with two in the shop. They only allow two in the shop at one time, presumably because the previous restriction of three was too efficient. At that time it was actually three in the queue and two sitting waiting, Today they actually had two sitting waiting and nobody being served. Not the best use of the four staff they had in the shop.
I waited outside for 25 minutes. I timed it especially for this post. The lady in front of me was finally admitted. I waited another ten minutes. They allowed me in. Then they made me wait again. The lady in front of me was told she would have to wait ten minutes for her prescription. Mine, when I was served, was ready for me as arranged. I heard the sound of celestial trumpets and felt warm rays of light fall upon my head.
Because I have learned from experience I checked the bag.
My Warfarin were missing. Another five minutes passed before they waved a slip of paper to prove I didn’t have a prescription for it. If only they’d been as keen to contact the doctor and sort it.
I had to walk five yards and press doorbell to contact reception. I did this and waited. They were busy and it took a few minutes. They refused to discuss it with me as there were “people about” and they didn’t want me to have to discuss it with people listening. I don’t actually feel the need to hide the fact I have atrial fibrillation. If I’d contracted it in a brothel, or had to take my trousers off to explain it, I might feel a bit embarrassed, but I didn’t, and I don’t. I could actually have sorted it in five minutes but no, I had to ring.
So they sent me away with instructions to sort it out by ringing them.
After sorting a number of other things out, and calming myself down, I was able to ring the surgery and establish that they had missed the Warfarin off the prescription. As usual there is no explanation, no apology and, seemingly, no concern that they have cocked up yet again.
As a result, my careful planning has come to nothing. My exposure to the virus has been doubled by the need for a second visit. My attempt to avoid exposing pharmacy workers to the virus has been negated. Sometimes I wonder why I bother trying.
Other, more interesting things also happened, but they would merely cloud the issue.