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11:32 p.m. - 2002-08-27

OL' PINK EYE IS BACK

Here's a kicker for ya ... Uncle Bob's got pink eye.

Today (yes, I'm writing this late in the evening)was just an all-around horrible day.

First, I drop Andrew off at daycare. Everything's hunky dory there. What's so horrible about that, U.B.??

Gah...let me tell you. Sheesh. Hold on to your horses, dude.

So I drop Andrew off.

10:30 a.m. I get a call from Miss Robin at daycare.

My boy's got pink eye.

It's not enough that his face is all scarred up.

But now his eye is all gooey and can't open.

Come pick him up, Uncle Bob because your wife isn't answering her phone at work.

...rabble scrabble wife...

So I go pick the boy up. He's in hysterics because Miss Robin had to quarantine him away from the other children. So he's in a playpen, SCREAMING in a bedroom with no toys, no books...nothing.

I pick him up and hug him and tell him everything's going to be alright.

We have a doctor's appointment at 11 a.m.

So I'm rushing down back streets to get there on time.

Get there at 11:05. No problem.

Get ushered into an examination room.

Where we sit.

And we sit.

And we sit.

After ONE SOLID HOUR of sitting in this tiny room with a son who can't see very well, has no toys to play with, is missing his lunch and nap and can't understand why...the doctor walks in.

It's not our usual doctor. Our usual doctor is out saving the world or some shit. Healing poor kids in Central America or something.

This is the cutesy doctor. This is the doctor that's on our local news every Friday afternoon with a five minute segment called "Ask Dr. Cutesy Guy".

Don't play that cutesy crap with me, Doc. Give me a prescription and lemme get out of here.

So he does all this cute stuff that's endearing to new mothers. Susie's breasts actually gushed milk one time as she watched him interact with Andrew.

Lactating breasts do that kinda stuff apparently. They have their own emotions. Whatever you do ... NEVER piss a lactating breast off. You could choke.

Anyway, he declares it an official case of pink eye and we're sent to the pharmacy across town.

I stop at McDonalds to get the boy a Happy Meal, hoping it might make him happy.

Freakin' McDonalds. I seriously need to look into suing their ass over making a meal that's supposed to make my kid all happy and shit.

(On a sidenote...all the lights in the building just got shut off except my lamp in my office. That creeped me out. )

(On another sidenote...am I using the phrase "and shit" too much lately? Don't answer that, it's a rhetorical question, dumbass. And shit.)

Anyway, we get to the pharmacy and I go through the drive thru.

A toothless bitter old hag named Marie takes my prescription and walks away from the window.

"Will it be ready in 20 minutes?" I holler through the loudspeaker.

"That sounds right," she yelled on her microphone.

I figured that to kill 20 minutes, I'd drive out to the house to see the midday progress.

We have a driveway. A cool, long, wide driveway. I love my driveway. I wanted to get out and hump my driveway, but the cement had already hardened and plus, there were about 12 workers standing around that mighta beaten my ass for being such a freak.

So I drive back to the pharmacy. And I'm going to make a long story short here because it's late and I'm tired.

The toothless old hag told me that my insurance had been terminated.

It isn't MY insurance, mind you. Andrew is on my wife's insurance.

I'm pissed at this point. Mainly because I sat there with my car idling for 12 minutes as Marie took her time to figure this out and tell me, building up a steady line of cars behind me.

I bit my tongue. I wanted to tell Marie she was a toothless bitter WRONG old hag, but I just drove off.

I went home, laid Andrew down, called Susie and left her a voice mail, rubbed my weary eyes and worked on some work that I had brought home with me.

An hour passed. My eye itched again. I absentmindedly rubbed it.

A minute passed. Eye itched again. I went to rub it and....wait just a damned second!

I ran to the bathroom mirror and sure as hell, I looked like I'd been coldcocked.

Susie finally called me back. She insisted that her insurance was still legit and told me to go back there and give the toothless old hag hell.

Literally people ... this woman was missing several of her front teeth and was old. I live in Alabama. I'm not making this shit up.

So Andrew wakes up and his face looks like he's the world's youngest gay porno star. He's all gooey and crusty and nasty.

This is perfect. I'm not cleaning his face up one bit.

I get him some juice and some crackers and we haul ASS back to the pharmacy.

This time I go inside.

Marie's still inside. Perfect.

"Can I help you?" she says.

"Yes," I say very angrily. "I came through your drive thru about three hours ago and you told me that my insurance has been terminated. It has not been terminated and I want my prescription for my son's pink eye which is very contagious."

I then held Andrew's face near hers. It was similar to putting a knife to someone's throat, except we're talking about pink eye here.

Marie turned the prescription over to another woman who sat there at a computer. She then got up, got some eye drops and handed them to Marie.

"Here you go, sir," Marie said.

"Why was I told that my insurance was terminated?" I demanded. "This has been a huge inconvenience for me, having to drive over here twice, having to wait in line for 15 minutes earlier, having to call my insurance company and get to the bottom of this. I would like an answer."

This was clearly out of Marie's field. Technically, I was being quite an asshole. But dammit, I wanted an answer.

Marie goes over to a guy sitting back there who had been listening to my rant.

The head pharmacist.

I quote here...I f'n quote here....

"You want an answer? I'll give you an answer!" he said to me, all tough.

It caught me off guard. I'm used to the customer always being right, but Mr. Head Pharmacist wasn't playing that game.

Obviously, this nerdy little prick must have just been transferred from a one-pharmacy town, because he was SWAGGERING like John Wayne as he walked over to the window to calm my ass down.

He proceeded to tell me that this was an unusual insurance that my wife was on and that he had only seen this type of insurance once before and he was the only one who knew how to file the claim or some shit. It was all pharmaceutical mumbo jumbo and I've gotta admit, it was over my simpleton head.

But I had a perfect comeback for him.

"So you're telling me that your policy here is that when your employees are faced with an insurance card that they've never dealt with before, they just tell the customer that their insurance has been terminated, rather than go to their supervisor to solve the problem?"

BOOOOOO-YAHHHH, BEEYOTCH!!!

He said "Becky had never dealt with that insurance company before."

"So instead of asking you or asking me, she just decided to have Marie tell me that I had no insurance rather than dealing with it."

"Apparently so."

"Don't you think she needs to be reprimanded for this?" I asked, staring right at Becky.

That's when this cocky little bastard cold-cocked me again.

"No sir. She did the right thing. Rather than prepare a prescription that she wasn't sure of, she denied it."

I was flabbergasted. Flibberbusted. Pissed.

I grabbed Andrew's prescription and said "From now on, I'll just take my prescription somewhere where the employees know how the hell to do their jobs."

The guy said "Thank you!" as I walked away.

And technically, since we no longer live on that side of town, I was going to switch pharmacies anyway.

But he didn't need to know that.

Eight hours later, I'm over it. My kid's eye is better, I'm using his eye drops to soothe and heal my own eye and we're going to be A-OK in the long run.

Now...it's almost midnight and my ass is going home and going to bed.

Y'all have a good one.

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