Yet again the military decides to make life difficult for me.
I suppose I ought not to complain; it’s all free anyhow.
I had to go in for my annual women’s health exam, and I ended up with this really cool doctor named (of all things) Sarah Jane. Heh. She’s from Roanoke. That should explain everything.
She kind of reminded me of my suitemate my senior year, and I really took to her. Plus she didn’t smother me in KY Jelly, and any time you leave a doctor’s office after a women’s exam feeling clean and dry is a fantastic experience. I think the other reason why I felt pretty comfortable is because it was just the two of us in the room; it was the first time I’d ever had an exam without a chaperone in the room. I’d rather NOT have a chaperone because that’s just one more person looking at parts of me that are pretty much off-limits to anyone but my husband. Plus when there are two people in the room, I feel like a slab of meat up there on the table.
I walked out of there with my prescription, but didn’t notice till I got to the naval hospital to have them filled that she’d written the presciption for my pills as “fill one month with 11 refills.” I just figured I’d do what I did in Virginia — ask them to fill at least three months to minimize my trips to the pharmacy. They did it in Virginia.
When I got to the pharmacy, I took a number. This is a naval hospital at lunch hour; I knew there’d be a wait. They were on #260 and I had #282. What made it a longer wait is people in uniform and hospital staff get another number which gets priority, but there were people getting that number even though they weren’t supposed to. It took probably 30 minutes before my number was called.
I went up to the window, and explained that I’d like three months at a time. She looks at me with THAT LOOK, and says, “We’re really not supposed to do that. Let me call the doctor and see if it’s ok.” I don’t see what the problem is — I don’t think anyone’s going to OD on birth control. Then she realized that the pharmacy didn’t carry that precise brand of pills (which is odd because I was put on it in the first place because the Navy carries it), only another type made by the same company. So she ends up getting permission to change my prescription to the other pills and the new dosing.
She gave me a beeper, like you get at Olive Garden when there’s a wait to be seated, and told me to have a seat so she could fill my prescription. Within five minutes, she called me back up again and informed me I’d never had a prescription filled there before.
Well, duh. I just moved here.
Then she told me I had to go to the next window to register on the DEERS system because she can’t fill my prescription until I’m in the computer.
She could have told me that FIRST!
I registered with the DEERS guy, who smelled a little off, and I was really glad he was on the other side of the counter. I didn’t really want to get any closer to him.
Then I went back to the lady filling prescriptions, and she gave me another beeper and told me to sit down.
Within minutes, she called me back up to get me to fill out some dumb form. Considering all the forms I had to fill out at the doctor’s office (why do they need your name, address, and emergency contact info on every single form?!?!), I wasn’t in the mood to fill yet another one out. Plus I didn’t have the answers to some questions, like my husband’s employer’s address. Umm, anyone know the address to the US Navy?!
I filled out the damn form, and sat back down. Ten minutes later I had my prescription and was walking out the door, an hour after I had walked in.
I know the Navy’s inefficient, but an hour just to get a prescription?! They didn’t have to measure anything out into bottles for me; they simply handed me a sealed box of six months’ worth of pills they plucked off the shelves.
At least it’s free.