Ron is still struggling with his leg, and today I needed to order my morphine. Florida is so regressive that you can not use any pharmacy computer system to refill morphine, which is a drug so old it is one of the most researched drugs of all time, but you must personally call in the refill on the right day and then pick it up on that day.
I called it in and from the fact that I got sent right away to the over fill call line instead of the actual pharmacy, which happens a lot because Walgreens is so understaffing and over whelming their store staff. They take the information and then transfer me to the pharmacy of the store I go to, which is just down the road. I wish they would just let the phone call go through to the store I use, as I then have to repeat every thing again.
So several hours later I get the notice the drug is ready, so I go in to get it. Then the first of many things happened that will stay with me. I am waiting in line as a woman is complaining that batteries for her blood pressure cuff wear out too soon and are far more expensive than she can afford. I understand that. But the person behind the counter while understanding can not change the price for her.
So I take the time to explain to her about lower cost rechargeable batteries and recharges that are reasonably priced. She keeps complaining while putting back five different packages of large numbers of batteries. I explained she needed to make sure the rechargeable batteries and the charger were the ones she needed for her blood pressure machine.
Then I step up to the counter, the person behind the counter who was a single mother who I am friendly with as I am almost all the pharmacy staff, simply because I am patient and care about them. She already had my morphine package ready, so I asked if she had a good day off yesterday and how her son had enjoyed the holiday. She rolled up her sleeve and her entire upper arm was bruised and swollen. I immediately became concern and asked her about it and if she was OK. Remember, I worked in an ICU and our concern was always if a patient felt safe at home.
She started to tear up, her lips trembling as she struggled not to cry. Now my entire focus was on her, fuck my morphine. She said it was her son. Now I was totally focused and concerned. I asked her if she was OK, if she felt comfortable talking, or if she would rather not tell me. She replied that her son has mental illness. I told her is she wanted to talk about it, I was here and would listen. Sadly, as she was thanking me, other people stepped up in the line behind me. She sadly shifted to her duty.
I talked to her as she processed my payment. Gave her my thanks and told her she was wonderful, and again if she needed something she had my contact information and “I gave her permission to contact me with it”! The last was important and with in hearing of her coworkers. I am serious, she could contact me and I did not want her in trouble for doing that. So after she thanked me, I left.
I went to the grocery story next door to get a few things. I won’t bore you with the stresses in there. But the most important thing is not the people I talked to in the store, but what happened after I put my stuff in my car, put my cart away, (I am disabled and some days need a walker to walk, but it pisses me off the people who just leave carts in parking spaces or in such a way they hit or will be hit by other cars. Several weeks ago I got so pissed at a woman who was clearly able-bodied who after putting her groceries in her car, left her cart next to my car almost touching it. I had been about to back out, but instead got out, walked around to the passenger side, walked up to her door looked in at her, then took the handle of her cart she left there, and put it in the space for them nearby. All while showing her I was walking with a cane. I then returned, looked into to her car, made an exaggerated shrug motion, and got back into my car. She backed out and left, never even acknowledging the event)
As I was about to open my car door when an elderly woman pushing a cart with a few things stopped almost behind my car. She and I were in direct sight. She was very elderly, had very white hair, had very white pale skin, with bright red pouches under her eyes. She had her left hand up to her brow and was moving it back and forth. By my dogs that love gravy, I was immediately concerned.
Mam’m, are you OK, I asked as I turned fully to her. She stood there a moment wiping at her brow and then turned to me and in a shaky voice said “Oh I am so tired, I am just very tired”! Oh crap, alarm bells are going off in my head. She then went on to say she was going home to rest.
Long story short, which my conversation with her was not. She rambled on about how she lived along but her brother was with her now. Oh, visiting I asked as I said I understood how having other in your home could be disruptive? Nope, and then came 20 minutes of the brother being a long haul truck driver and every part of the rest of her life for the last few years. I went over to her, again trying to assess if she needed assistance or not. She seemed in her senses, she knew what was going on, what year it was, the president, and she just wanted to talk it seemed. But she kept repeating she was very tired. I kept asking if she needed help, was there someone I could call for her. Nope she was not far from home she just wanted to tell me she was very tired, about her brother staying at her home right now, his job, her home, her other stuff.
As far as I could tell she was OK, but yes tired. But really only wanted to talk to someone, even a stranger in a parking lot of a grocery store. I must have talked to her for 20 minutes. My own legs had gone numb and I was leaning hard on the car. I really was stumped what to do, I had nothing I felt would raise red flags for the store if I asked them to help her, and I really felt she was just really lonely. So lonely she was willing to tell her story to a stranger who asked her if she was OK in a store parking lot. I was torn, but my own needs were screaming at me. So I said OK then, if you are sure you’re OK and don’t want me to call anyone or get the store to help, I need to go home. She said her goodbyes, happy weekend and pushed her cart forward.
When I got home, I talked to Ron. He really is the medical person, he spent nearly 20 years in ICU’s giving medical care. He told me I did everything right, I assessed her as best I could. He asked more detailed questions on her skin, her stance and other things I really couldn’t answer. He told me that as she seemed in her right mind, competent and did not ask for help, I really couldn’t have done more. Still I worried. Then I got angry. This old woman lived alone for a long time, she told me, that is why the brother visiting caused her issues. Why is the US so damn hard on older people who are alone? The wealthiest country on earth, number 1 In the GNP and military might, and a little old lady is standing in a parking lot telling a stranger how very tired she is. Hugs. Scottie. And now I am going to bed!
Scottie's Playtime 