That’s the number of steps to get from the parking lot at my daughter’s school to her locker. She broke her foot Monday night and today was her first day back school. She’s going to have fun negotiating her way around on crutches this month. At least yesterday the weather warmed up, so the ice is no longer a problem. Since half her classes are outside in portable classrooms located in the parking lot, she’s going to betting a work out.
Monday night she and her friends were snowskating (picture a riding a skateboard with out wheels down a snow covered hill onto a metal rail) down our front yard hill. She jumped off the snowskate, but still had momentum, ran down the driveway, slipped and rammed her foot into a ridge in the road. Her friends helped her into the house, her brother called the clinic and made an appointment and I, quite luckily, I happened to come home from running errands after work, just in time to take her the doctor. The diagnosis: broken second and third metatarsals. I figure it is a bad sign when mom (me!) can actually read the xray.
Sarah was in considerable pain, so the nurse called in a prescription for lortab, and we headed to Smiths to pick it up on the way home. My question for the day is is "Does it really do any good to have a doctor call in a prescription?" Sure enough when we got to Smiths, not only was the convenient outside walk up window not conveniently open, but my prescription also wasn’t ready. It’s aggravating to have to wait when you know your kid is in pain. I stayed home from work on Tuesday, and Sarah, despite the lortab, was still having a lot of pain so I called the doctor’s office to ask for something stronger. Finally, after 2 pm when the doctor finally came in, they called and said she could have some percocet, the catch is I would have drive to the clinic and pick up a written prescription. So off I go, down to the clinic then back to Smiths, where I turn in the script and get told the typical “it will be 10 or 15 minutes”, so I go shop for a few minutes. When I go back to the counter they tell me there is a “problem” with the script and they have to call the clinic, so it will be a while longer. At this point I’m feeling really impatient - I just want to bring my daughter her new medication. So I sort of lean on the counter, looking impatient I’m sure, when suddenly the guy behind the counter tells my I have to “back off”, and that I can’t wait there and makes some comment, which I couldn’t hear, to a coworker. And then it occurs to me: they think I’m a freaking drug addict! So was there really a “problem” with my prescription, or was the “problem” the fact that was filling two painkiller scripts in less that 24 hours? I suspect that fact that I was wearing a baggy old t-shirt, sweat pants, and acting impatient didn’t help either.
So now I wonder, does everyone who goes to the pharmacy with a prescription for painkillers get looked at with suspicion? It must be awful to have a chronic pain problem and have to constantly feel like you must justify your purchase, or that people are looking at you with evil eyes because they think you are “that” kind of person.
.... my daughter figured she had to go up or down 30 flights of a dozen or so steps today...
...and along the lines of broken things... I played with my fusing glass while I was home with Sarah, unfortunately, this is what I found in my kiln Wednesday morning. I guess I rushed a step, oh well, live and learn!