When We’re Retirees…

…I swear, I am not going to act like half the military retirees I see. I promise. Really, really, really promise. I will act like the mature half, the ones who might block the commissary aisle, but have full control of their tempers and attitudes. Blocking the aisle is a ritual, a right earned by sucking it up through 20+ years of moving every 2-3 years, never knowing if the Active Duty Person in the family is going to go play in a land mine filled sandbox for 3 months, or 6 months, or a year. Or two. It’s expected.

But temper tantrums…I somehow don’t think those are a right of passage, not something one should do, no matter how many years of service were given to the country. Especially not when vented upon another Retiree doing volunteer service in the base refill pharmacy.

It was something to see, to be sure.

There, at the front of the line, was a guy about 75 years old, trying to get a refill on some scrip—like we all were. The elderly volunteer (and I say elderly not because he’s a Retiree, but because he looks about 90 years old) had to tell him the refill was flagged on the computer as invalid, and couldn’t be filled.

Holy crap, you’d have thought he’d said that they weren’t going to fill it just because they wanted to see his heart explode, right there in the pharmacy. This guy went off in a major way, yelling until his face was beet red, veins standing up in rapt attention and throbbing, and I’m sure little globs of spit were flying from his lips, though I couldn’t see well enough to be sure.

The poor volunteer had to keep his composure through the whole thing, all the while trying to explain that the computer showed this guy’s doc had written a new scrip just two days ago—which had been filled—so the refill on the old scrip was canceled. He couldn’t get the same med twice.

It kind of made me wonder if this wasn’t a scrip for a pain medication, or something potentially addicting, he wanted it so badly.

Still…the volunteers have no control over the scrips, and they can’t dispense anything without a valid prescription. Screaming at them doesn’t help; it just makes them feel bad, and makes the screamer look stupid.

Ten minutes later I was up at the old guy’s window to get a refill on my HGH; he went to the back to get it, and returned with a pharmacy supervisor, looking a little pale.

They were out of the HGH and needed to order it; it’d be in by Monday.

Well, that’s fine. I have 8 days worth left, and I’m used to them needing to order it. It’s a high cost prescription that they don’t keep much of on hand. I’m not the only one who needs it, so they run out. No big deal. So I said “No problem, I’ll come back Monday.”

Being reasonable shouldn’t bring such relief to someone’s face. Being reasonable shouldn’t be the reason why the supervisor also looks relived, and asks someone to wait while they make a call “just to be sure” there’s none available.

But, I suppose being reasonable is reason enough for a 90 year old Retiree to try to flirt with a 42 year old married woman. Within 5 minutes I knew he’d served 40 years (40!!!) and that I have “sparkly green eyes.” I didn’t tell him they were only sparkly because of the contacts.

So, I go back on Monday to get my scrip, where I will wait in a long line again, and where I will remind myself that it’s not going to kill me to wait for 20 minutes, and that most of the people manning the windows spend a lot of time in the military, and have seen horrors enough that they don’t need to see a fully grown person have a three-year-old’s type meltdown. And I’ll remind myself that if I ever volunteer at the pharmacy, that it’s not acceptable to reach over the counter and bitch slap the percentage of Retirees who seem to think that anyone lowering themselves to manning the refill pharmacy is open to such behavior.

Maybe I should take them a few Super Soakers. There’s nothing wrong with dousing a particularly rude person.

Is there?

No comments: