She mentioned to me this morning that she was nearly finished with the first dose of what her doctor prescribed. Since it included three refills, I suggested we drop it off while we went to do her errands and then pick it up on the way back home. “Okay,” she agreed.
The pharmacy was our first stop. Assuming this would be a simple transaction, I suggested she wait in the car while I speak to the pharmacist.
“That prescription can’t be refilled for 10 days. It’s only been two.” the man in the white coat informed me.
“Hm,” I said. “I’ll call her doctor and see what can be done because she is going to need more by tomorrow.”
I walked back to the car, told her there had been a little wrinkle- but it would be easy to figure out- and phoned her doctor immediately.
“We’ll send a new prescription over to the pharmacy,” the nurse told me when she returned to the call after I’d been on hold for five minutes while she investigated the matter.
During those five minutes my mom asked me several times what was going on and why was there a problem. And she suggested she could make do with what she had.
“Nope,” I said, “we’ll get to the bottom of this.”
Once the nurse confirmed that things were in motion, my mom and I headed on to the grocery store, the hardware store, and her favorite readymade takeout meal spot a few towns over. Filling her freezer was on my to-do list today.
Two hours later, back at the pharmacy, I suggested again that she wait in the car, while I fetch her medicine. Two minutes after that I returned, empty handed, dialing the doctor’s number again.
“We can just go home and deal with this tomorrow,” she suggested as we neared ten minutes, sitting in the car in the parking lot, on hold this time while the receptionist and nurse engaged in another call with the pharmacy to figure out how to provide my mother with more medicine. I assumed insurance was snarling things up, but didn’t ask.
“Nope,” I said again. “Just take a few more minutes. I can come back tomorrow to pick it up but I want to be sure I don’t have to walk back in there to speak to the pharmacist directly.
“It’s very complicated. I’m sorry.” she murmered.
“Nope,” I replied. “We’ve nearly got it figured out.”
And we did. Together. And I wondered how this would have unfolded for her alone. Today I was here. Most days I’m not.