Filling the Scrip

This morning I called in sick to work again so I could go to the doctor. My headache was much better, though I was still running a low fever and still lacked the capacity to draw a nice, full breath. With my screwed up ability to deal with heat I'm a little leery of going out for a hike in the sunshine while I still have a fever.

So I went to the doctor.

I dozed off in the waiting room and missed my call. Someone else waiting to get in was kind enough to wake me and I went stumbling through the doorway and into Doctorland without an escort, which, it seems, just isn't done.

Whoops.

I saw the doctor, but more importantly she saw me. I got a 5 minute breathing treatment (which left me a little dizzy and with a numb face) and a prescription that I could pick up at the CVS that was right up the road, coincidentally right on my way home.

Also coincidentally, this was the very CVS I had walked out of, months earlier, in what I'll call a.... um... 'showy' fashion. I might have made an impression. They might remember me... (please see my entry titled "Here's Your Medicine - Psych!" for further clarification)

Whoops.

So I kept a low profile. I didn't make eye-contact. I spoke in a slightly different voice than my own, and I was extremely polite. All this, and the pharmacist who was assisting me still looked at me a little funny. So did the guys working behind the counter back there. Did they remember me? Did they recognize me? I had also gone to the trouble of altering my appearance slightly, so how could they have tipped to the fact that it was me?

I mean, look, would you recognize me?

Of course not! So what was with the odd looks?


I may never know.


Talk to you later!