Drugs

The bell over the door rang as I pushed open the door and stepped into the pharmacy. I had just been to the doctor to figure out what the heck is wrong with my stomach, and she had prescribed me some serious stomach acid fighters. And there I was in the Inman Pharmacy.

The place smelled old. The walls were covered with that faux wood paneling, which was then plastered with all kinds of old-fashioned-looking health signs. There were a lot of signs relating to incontinence.

I gave the illegible prescription slip to the gal behind the counter.

"Is this your first time here?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Okay then," she said, gesturing toward two folding chairs next to a shelf full of Depends undergarments. "You can have a seat until this is done."

I shuffled toward the bladder control protection section and took a seat.

The bell above the door jangled again as someone entered. I couldn't see who entered, but quickly a thick Boston accent chimed out "Hello everyone!" It sounded like an elderly lady, and when she appeared from in between the aisles to stand before the counter, I saw that she must have been in her 70s. She stood at a shade under five feet tall, a bit hunched over and wearing a older overcoat with a bright violet and tan silk scarf on her shoulders.

"Hi everyone," she said again, handing an empty pill bottle to the gal behind the counter. "I need a refill, and boy, I need it soon. My doctor won't be in until I don't know when and I'm already out of these thingees."

The gal handed the bottle back to the pharmacist. The old woman continued. "How soon can I get those? I just ran out and need them soon."

After a moment, the pharmacist came out from behind his glass work area with the bottle.

"I can't refill these for you without a prescription from your doctor," he said. He was an older man, with grey hair and glasses.

"Oh well, I know you have a prescription on file for me, I know because I've had this refilled before," the woman replied. She looked over at me sitting amongst the adult diapers and smiled a grandma-type smile. I smiled back.

"Let me check," the pharmacist said, walking back behind the glass.

The woman waddled over to take the empty seat next to me.

"I know I'm allowed to get those refilled, and I need to do it now," she said, slowly plopping down into the chair next to me. "My doctor only works Tuesdays and Thursdays and I need those because I'm out now."

The pharmacist reappeared. "Ms. Williams, I can't find a refill order on file for you, plus this bottle says 'No Refills.'" He pointed to a small red label on the bottle.

"Well, I can't get my doctor today, but I need those refilled. He only works Tuesdays and Thursdays," she said. "Those are blood pressure pills and I need them. What am I supposed to do without them and I can't go see him until my appointment next month?"

"How about this," said the pharmacist, rubbing his forehead with his free hand. "What if I give you two pills to get you through the day, and then I'll call your doctor tomorrow to see if I should refill the rest of this for you?"

"Why can't we just refill them now? They're just blood pressure pills, it's not like they're marijuana or some bad drug," she laughed and elbowed me. The gal behind the counter, who had been watching the whole scene without expression thus far, stifled a laugh. I didn't stifle mine, and laughed a little out loud.

The pharmacist rolled his eyes, and then smiled at the woman. "You can just call us tomorrow to see if your doctor let us refill these, is that okay?"

"What time should I call? I'm very busy tomorrow and can't come in here to get them. That's why I'm doing all this today."

"We deliver. You just call us around noon, and we'll let you know."

The old woman slowly got up from her chair. "Well, okay. But I'm very busy tomorrow, so I hope this all works. I've been coming in here for 20 years now and this has never been a problem."

She shuffled back toward the front door. "Bye everyone," she called out with a chuckle as the bell rang above her.

The pharmacist laughed to himself and returned to his post behind his glass shield. I laughed again, too, and then popped some Tums. The "Boston - love that dirty water" song played out from the radio behind the counter and I tapped my foot to the beat.

"Your prescription is done," said the gal behind the counter.