Here in Chicago, just like any major urban area in the U.S. that has Walgreens (and no, there’s no apostrophe there), there’s about one on every block, it seems. You know, like Starbucks. Anyway, Brian and I were at our local Walgreens recently. The allergy and other over-the-counter meds that kids can get high from are locked up, which is understandable. But at the one we go to, the deodorant is also locked up. We pondered this.
Brian: Maybe ’cuz they’re small and easy to steal?
Me: Yeah, but so’s a lot of other stuff, like, um . . . candy bars.
Brian: To keep people from opening ’em up and smelling ’em?
Me: Maybe . . .
It occurred to us that, like many Walgreenses in Chicago, and probably in most major urban areas in the U.S., there’s usually one, maybe two people stationed out front asking for handouts. We looked at each other.
Brian: Maybe it’s to keep people from using ’em.
Me: Yeah. Maybe.
Brian: Could you imagine buying one, getting home and opening it only to find a piece of hair on there?
Me: Eeeeewwwwww!!!!!
So I ask you. Does your local Walgreens lock up the deodorant?
These past couple of weeks I’ve felt really, really weak and totally tired. Part of it is definitely because one or two nights out of the week I don’t sleep at all, in spite of the trazodone. Plus, I had my first maintenance ECT this past Friday.
Well, had I not visited my GE last week I never would have known that I’m anemic! Because he’s affiliated with Swedish Covenant, they faxed him a copy of my bloodwork.
While I was at Swedish Covenant’s E.R., one of the nurses or assistants or something drew several vials of blood from me. I bled out, remember? (If not, read here.) They never bothered to tell the E.R. doc the results of my blood test! Even my PCP, when I saw him recently because of the flu, said it’s been over a year since I had bloodwork done, but no hurry — I can have it done in a month or two. And here, I had it all this time! Or my GE did, anyway. WTF?
Fuck off and die, Swedish Covenant Emergency Room. I don’t care that your newly opened, completely renovated E.R. is gorgeous (note that this link may be dead one day), your fucking staff (except for the doctor and nurse I was lucky to have) is totally fucking incompetent.
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Originally written Thursday, February 28, 2007:
Need to make a trip to the emergency room? Don’t go to Swedish Covenant Hospital’s E.R., where Brian and I have now been for two hours, even though I told the triage nurse that I rated myself a 9ish (out of 10) on the pain scale.
While waiting in triage, located approximately 15 - 20 ft. from the entrance, we made the unfortunate discovery that the sliding glass doors wouldn’t slide shut. Brian happened to glance at a thermostat, which read 54?F — indoors. Fortunately, we waited only 15 (very cold) minutes in triage. Afterwards, the nurse was kind enough to let us wait in the emergency room itself, rather than in the waiting room, which is next to the entrance.
Kind as she was, however, I was the one who offered to give a urine sample. I’ve made enough visits to E.R.s in the past, and they always ask for one. I may be mistaken, but I believe this is standard, especially for women, to ensure she isn’t pregnant. The results dictate the procedures the staff may or may not be able to perform. When I finished, I set the cup where she instructed.
The restroom was disgusting: discarded hospital gowns littered the floor; the toilet seat was raised, displaying a large, dry urine stain towards the back of the rim; and the sink desperately needs Drano? Build-Up Remover. When I urinated again later, even more gowns were strewn around, and the stain remained.
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I left for my GE’s office half an hour early to give me enough time to get a soy latte (yeah, I’ve gotten used to the soy milk since I’m not supposed to have dairy). Good thing I called the doctor’s office first because I couldn’t remember what floor they were on–turns out I’m driving to the wrong fucking office! The receptionist even called me earlier to confirm the appointment. Um, she could have given me the address then.
She also told me that since I’d never seen the GE at that particular office, that my chart is at their other office (the one I was on my way to), so I might as well reschedule for an appointment there. I couldn’t get another one until next Thursday because that’s the only day the doctor is at that office. Well, let’s just hope I don’t bleed out between now and then.
So I decide to get a latte on my way home. I get to Starbucks (I would have preferred to go to Perfect Cup, which is right by the doctor’s office, but I was closer to home and so was Starbucks), place my order, and then realized that I never took my wallet out of my hockey bag when I unpacked everything else out of it this morning after my pick-up game. (By the way, Shane, one of the guys I play with said that there are just going to be some shots I won’t be able to stop–playing with guys, that is–because of my size. He meant it in a nice way. Also, because there were three of us goalies who showed up again (I’m the newest one, but I don’t mean playing-wise necessarily, one of the other skaters told me not to let the other goalies dictate when I can go play–that we’re supposed to rotate every 15 minutes. That was pretty cool of him.)
Bottom line: no doctor’s appointment; no coffee; not happy.
nothing. i had another ECT again today, and for the first time since i’ve had them, i’m constantly having to pee. what a pain in the ass. also, the regular shock doc is on vacation or something so some other doctor’s doing it, and this guy does it super early! like on Friday, we have to be there at 6:15am! Jesus Christ. i don’t know yet if i’m going to have to go back next week or what. well, i don’t feel better yet.
in other news, Brian picked up the keys to our new apartment. we can move in on the 15th, but i don’t think we will ’til the 24th. i hate moving, but i can’t wait to get out of this place.
this past weekend Brian and i signed a lease for a new apartment! yay, us! our current lease ends at the end of the month, but our new lease starts on the 15th so we’ll be able to move things over a 2-week period. still, we’re going to hire movers for the really big stuff, probably closer to the end of June.
though we’ll have a different ZIP code, we were fortunate enough to find a place in our current neighborhood, just on the other side of the main street we live off of and 3 blocks east. the bus stop is on our corner rather than a block east or west, and we’ll only be 2-1/2 blocks from the el instead of 5. and there’s a White Hen right on the corner, which is nice nice nice.
since we looked at several apartments in one day (we let Chicago Apartment Finders do all the work), neither of us can remember exactly what it looks like, but it was the last one we saw and the one we liked, not best, but the one we liked, period. it’s still a one-bedroom and although it’s slightly more expensive, it’s a lot nicer and has, not only a built-in microwave, but a dishwasher, as well! woohoo! it’ll be such a treat to finally get away from “ABCD” Management. i can’t believe we’ve been here 5 years–5 years too many, but we hate moving.
it doesn’t help that i’m having to go through ECT right now because moving is such a huge stressor, but in a way, i feel relieved. the only downside is that we’ll no longer be on Pete the Mailman’s route.
there’s a Walgreens within walking distance from our apartment. the next closest one is a mile away. we stopped going to Nearby Walgreens because the pharmacy manager is a fucking cunt. i hate that word and hardly ever use it, but she is. long story. another reason we avoid Nearby Walgreens is because the cashiers are fucking idiots.
for being located only a mile away, i can’t believe the difference in IQs between the employees at this Walgreens and the ones near us. anyway, Mile-Away Walgreens has a 24-hour drive-thru pharmacy, so it makes more sense to fill prescriptions there. the sad thing is that they don’t sell decaf diet Cokes. unfortunately (or fortunately), Nearby Walgreens does.
after driving Brian to work yesterday, i stopped by Nearby Walgreens for a 12-pack. the cashier was “Paul.” ugh. i hate him. the last time i was there–months ago–he didn’t know how to make change, never mind that it says right on the cash register how much to give back. i figured that by now he should know his denominations.
right before he rings me up, he starts coughing into his sweater sleeve. several times. my total was $3.08, so to make things easy for him, i gave him a $5 and 8 cents. what does he do? licks his fingers before sliding 2 singles out of the drawer and handing them to me. fucking yuck.
a few nights ago, the blender died. there were no rocks in it; just some stuff to make a smoothie. Brian pressed a button, the blender whirred, and then all of a sudden, the place smelled like fried wires.
i thought maybe the outlet died, since that’s happened in the living room. Brian assured me it hadn’t, because the carbon monoxide detector that was also plugged in was still working.
the blender was less than a year old. sure, we got it for like, $17 at Target, but still. it isn’t like we use it every day, either. there’s no reason it should already be dead.
it could have been a power surge, i suppose. but why bother calling the landlord to tell them? they’ll probably just say that our blender was too big, which is what they said about our a/c unit over the summer–the very same a/c unit we’ve had for the 4 years we’ve lived here and that never caused problems with the electricity before. i fucking hate them. i can’t wait to move.
since i live on the northwest side, and lived in Wrigleyville before my parents bought a house in suburbia, by default i’m a Cubs fan. i’m not a huge baseball fan, anyway, so i’m fine with the Sox winning. even northside businesses are congratulating that southside team, and i’m fine with that, too. the Waveland Bowl’s marquee reads: "Congratulations White Sox from the bottom of our Cubs hearts," or something like that.
still, i find it disconcerting to see private citizens on the north side with Sox stickers on their vehicles. one car i saw as i walked into Starbucks had "Go Sox!" and stuff like that written on their windows with that white stuff people use to write stuff like that on their windows. the guy in front of me was not only wearing a Sox jersey and cap, he had a bag full of more Sox goodies and a pennant in one hand. even the baristas were giving him a hard time.
but what i couldn’t believe was when i saw The Neighborhood Drunk (more on him another time) wearing a Sox cap. even The Neighborhood Drunk has caught Sox fever! something’s afoot on the northwest side.
why, they are! here on the northwest side, even. congratulations, White Sox.
