I hoped the pharmacist could not see my eyes light up at this side effect declaration. I'd been waiting for over half an hour for my prescription. The idiot RediMed doctor (IRD) wrote the prescription wrong so the pharmacist had to call to clarify, as minutes were ticking more rapidly than time should, and RediMed was closing in seven minutes and I was NOT leaving without my Codeine so they'd better hurry the hell up.
I had pneumonia in my right lung. My temperature was 104.8 degrees. I was coughing uncontrollably and nervously drinking from my Evian water bottle, which had been empty for 20 minutes.
"This is a controlled substance," I heard the pharmacist tell the IRD. "You can only prescribe this for 30 days. Your script lists 34 days." Five-hour pause as the pharmacist, who is getting visibly irritated by the obvious incompetence, listens to the idiot. Tick, tock. "Most other pharmacists wouldn't notice this, but I will not lose my license over it." Another pause. I'm still drinking the phantom water, trying in vain to quench the fire burning beneath my skin. "You're welcome to call this in tomorrow when another pharmacist is on duty."
NOOOOOO! (Did I scream this out loud? I don't think so.) I need it now. Please give me my controlled substance! I was sweating profusely now, nervously looking at the clock, resigned to go home with just my stupid antibiotics, which are useless except to cure the infection brewing in my lung.
Finally, the pharmacist, who I suspect was sent from heaven (I heard celestial bells ringing and her face glowed like an angel's), called my name and gave me my stuff. If it hadn't been for the pneumonic germs spewing from my every pore, I would have kissed her right then and there.