It was a Friday, February 15, 2019, I was just feeling a little off. I started to paint a portrait. I couldn’t get done with it fast enough. I did not have the patience for it. I felt fidgety and unfocused. I applied the first coat of two colors, then put my brush away. When I walked down the hall to the front of the house, all of a sudden my right side went limp and I fell against the wall. I leaned against the wall and continued to my chair. I decided to try to sort out the problem I was having getting my glucose test strips from the pharmacy. Medicare has instituted new rules aimed at limiting test strip use, because, you know, so many people are addicted to pricking their fingers. The local CVS had received my prescription on Tuesday. The doctor’s office had not written it in a way that complied with Medicare’s requirements. They did not bother to inform me or my doctor of this. I filled a drug prescription on Wednesday and asked about the strips. They told me to tell my doctor to reduce the number of test strips to 300, since 400 was more than three months’ supply. I test four times per day. I did so. I used my last test strip Thursday morning. I called CVS. I got put on hold for several minutes. I called back. Anna finally answered after a long hold. She wouldn’t let me speak to explain my conversation with my doctor’s office. She said, “It wouldn’t work. I’ll try it again.” Then she immediately put me on hold again. After a couple of minutes, she got back on the line and said, “We’re really slammed. It didn’t work.” Then she hung up as I was trying to ask: What didn’t work? I was exhausted enough by the ignorance for one day, so I didn’t call back again until Friday. On Friday, I got the real reason Medicare wouldn’t fill the prescription, even though it was now written properly. On my last prescription for test strips the doctor’s office had mistakenly directed me to test twice a day. I had mentioned that I test 4 times to the pharmacist and to my doctor. No one seemed to think this was a problem at the time. It turns out Medicare won’t refill the prescription until I exhaust the supply at 2 uses per day. CVS told me to call Medicare to get an exemption. I called Medicare, who informed me that they didn’t routinely give exemptions. I told them, up to now they had covered my strips for four times per day. They told me Congress changed it. (After all, we need to save a few dollars on test strips so we have more money for trillion dollar bombers that barely fly.) I called my doctor’s office again to have them write the presciption for what I could get. I called CVS again. I explained to Mary what I had one. She made disparaging remarks about Medicare. I told her that Medicare remained the most efficient healthcare delivery system in the country, with the highest customer satisfaction rating of any insurance company.. She made an absurd statement with no basis in reality: “Well, the last thing you want is government in charge of healthcare!”
That put me right over the edge. I mean, who is to be in charge, if not government? Who is to enforce malpractice law? How could there be malpractice law without government? Who would enforce insurance contracts, drug safety and quality of care? My mind was reeling! My body was already in an active stroke state when I called. I responded with a word I had never uttered aloud before. I said, “You must be an ignorant Trumpite!”
I regretted saying it as soon as I heard it. It was true, but it would do no good. She apparently hung up before I finished the sentence. I waited a couple of minutes, then I called back. Eleanor, the manager answered. She told me that I was not to do business with them anymore after I used that word. I said, “Excuse me. She was the one who brought politics into the discussion. Wait a minute. What word?” Eleanor said, “You called her a c_nt.”
I told her that I most certainly did not. I have never used that word in my life. Eleanor claimed that another employee heard me say it as well. I asked how that could be, since only Mary and I were on the phone. I told her what transpired, but that did not matter. None of Anna’s or Mary’s mistreatment of me or their nonsense or discourtesy made any difference. At CVS, the customer is now always wrong.
An hour or two later, Frank, my visiting nurse, came to check on me. He ended up calling the ambulance and I was back to Grand View’s ER with stroke symptoms and extremely high blood pressure. They went over me and determined that I had another TIA. The doctor asked me if I thought that staying at the hospital would provide any benefit. I told him no. I thought it was a bad idea to come in the first place. He released me.
A month later I went into CVS to pick up a prescription for my wife after her surgery. The hospital had mistakenly sent it there instead of to the Giant Pharmacy next door. The pharmacist on duty had no problem giving it to me. Anna, a pharmacy clerk, started to go into a fit about how Eleanor told me I was not to be in the store; something Eleanor never told me. Anna proceeded to call the police, while the pharmacist hastily finished filling the order and ringing me out.
Bethann and I switched all of our prescriptions to mail order or to the Giant. Yet we still get texts from CVS for refill reminders. When I called them to tell them to stop that, they told me that came from corporate and they had no control. Yet, they originated from doing business with the local store. I told them they could figure it out. It was their problem. I did not want them bugging me. they harassed me, inconvenienced me, falsely accused me, called the cops on me, banned me from their store. they could figure out how to stop the texts, then they could go to hell.
Years ago, when I had an occasion to contact CVS “customer service” about a matter, I learned of their corporate policy of psychological warfare against customers. The phone tree on their published “Customer Service” line has no options to get to customer service. I even tried hitting 00 repeatedly to no avail. Finally, I screamed into the phone. That got me through to a bedraggled customer service agent. I told her what I had to do to get through to her. She said, “I know.”
I said, “You mean to tell me, that is the only way anyone can get through to you?”
She said, “Yes.”
I said, “You have a shit job.”
She said, “I know.”
