So I'm sitting in a pharmacy waiting room. It's one of those 24-hour pharmacies that seem to always have people waiting for meds. I haven't been to this one in a while but every time I'm here it is choas. I have no idea how it stays in business other than the fact that it's only one of a couple of 24-hour pharmacies in the city so everyone just tolerates the madness.
There's a guy sitting next to me. Sounds like he's recently been diagnosed with Diabetes. I know his look of confusion and I hear the uncertainty in his voice--the same confusion and uncertainty I had when I was diagnosed with it last October. A clerk behind the counter goes to pick out his lancets and test strips toward the front of the store and she returns with two boxes in her hands.
"Are those the smallest needles you've got?" He asks as she walks by him on her way to the cash register.
"I have no idea," she says. "You'll have to ask Ginger." Ginger is nowhere in sight and she doesn't apprear to be coming his way any time soon.
The man is currently talking to another clerk who seems equally as lost. The lost leading the lost. That's how it is in the land of the 24-hour pharmacy.
