Round 2

You'll never believe who called me today. I lie. You will. 

Yes, today at 11:30 am I picked up a voice message from Pharmacy B. They were calling to let me know they had to reschedule delivery of my prescription so could I please call them back. 

Sure. Why not? Let's call them back. 

So I found a quiet corner and called them back. I got a very sunny somebody who explained that the Idiot Insurance Company had told them that they couldn't file a claim on the prescription until April 8, and we needed to reschedule delivery for sometime next week. 

Wait, says I. And I told Sunny the story, from the beginning, of yesterday's calls. I explained that I had talked to multiple people at Pharmacy B, and multiple people at the Idiot Insurance Company, and we'd gone from no drugs, to yes drugs, to no drugs to, finally, at 5:00 pm, yes, absolutely, drugs. So what the fuck happened, I ask.

There's no need for swearing, says Sunny, primly. I disagree, says I. I'm dying of cancer. The only thing slowing that process are the drugs you keep refusing to send me. I spent all day on the phone yesterday getting to the point where we all agreed that I would get the drugs. I was assured by one of your colleagues those drugs would be shipped today. And now you're telling me that all that's changed. I think swearing is entirely appropriate. In any case, can you please explain what happened?

Your insurance company won't pay the claim unless it's submitted after April 8. Fine, says I, I'll call my insurance company, and I hung up on Sunny.

(A brief aside: while I feel a tiny bit bad for hanging up on Sunny, the customer service at Pharmacy B is so cosmically atrocious that I figure I can't possibly have been the first to do so. In fact, the ability to tolerate being hung up has to be the core skill stated in the job description. I'm sure she'll live.)

So now I call the Idiot Insurance Company. Actually, I first have to find their phone number which, for some odd reasons, requires me to try three different browsers before I find one that will render their webpage such that you could actually read it. But I find the number and give them a call. 

Hello, this is Sunny #2 and this call is being recorded, how can I help you? Deep breath. First, says I, you need to know that I am extremely angry. I apologize in advance if I'm testy. But... and, once I again, I give the entire story. So I need to know what happened, and, more important, I need you to fix. Sunny #2 is now very Cloudy. Cloudy, in a slow and calming voice, starts asking for my identifiers: birth date, name, clickity clickity click, the name of the prescription I'm trying to fill, clickity clickity click, is it okay if I put you on hold? Sure, says I, no problem.

So the classical music kicks in and since I'm trapped in this little room with nothing but the classical music, my burning rage, and the computer to keep me company, I start surfing the news sites. (Apparently, Donald Trump had a bad day in Wisconsin.) Eventually, Cloudy comes back. She's talked to the pharmacy supervisor who "solved" my problem yesterday and thinks she can tell what's going on: Pharmacy B is submitting its claim against the wrong prescription which is why it's being denied. Would I mind holding while she gives them a call to sort this out? No problem, says I, so the music and the surfing continue.

After a few minutes, Cloudy comes back to apologize for the delay and to inform me she's being transferred to a manager. Am I willing to continue holding? Sure. Why not?

Music and surfing... another apology from Cloudy... music and surfing... apology... music and surfing... apology... music and surfing...

Finally, Cloudy comes back for the last time. She assures me that it's now all worked out and my drugs will arrive in the morning. Thank you, says I, and I hang up and stretch my arm for the first time in twenty-some minutes which causes my elbow to go all tingly. 

At this point, I have spent forty-five minutes on the phone, the last twenty-five of which were mostly spent on hold. In my heart of hearts I know I should probably call Pharmacy B back, yet again, to confirm that my order is in fact being processed and will ship this afternoon, but I just can't do it. The thought of having to go through the story one more time.... Just no. Not gonna happen.

So we'll see. In truth, a part of me sort of hopes they don't. 'Cause if they don't, I'm going to take it as confirmation from the universe that it's time to end my treatment. 

If this is what it takes to get the drugs I need, I don't want 'em.