Especially if it comes at someone else’s expense.
I shall elaborate.
The human female, being a “delicate flower” and a genetic hash of undesirable traits, can be counted upon to do whatever the doctors least expect. Earlier this month, she received a routine immunization. Against, I might add, a disease which she has already had but would prefer not to have a second time. Two days later she felt ill and her arm was blotchy red, swollen, and hot, sure signs of either a scary but non-threatening adverse reaction (boring) or a massive incubating infection (slightly more interesting.)
She betook herself to the walk-in clinic, where the physician’s assistant told her, essentially, to grow up and stop whining. On the off chance that the arm was indeed infected and preparing to fall off, the PA agreed to place a prescription for antibiotics on file at the local pharmacy, to be filled if needed.
Soon after that, it became clear that the arm was on the mend (yawn), and the prescription was forgotten.
Imagine the human female’s surprise when a week or so later, a package arrived for her in the mail:
Mail-order delivery of pharmaceuticals is one of the things Midgardians have which usually works very well. If I am not involved…
How shall I befuddle thee? Let me count the ways.
1. Prescription sent to mail-order pharmacy rather than the local apothecary
2. Filled immediately, not on file
3. Wrong dosing instructions (3 times daily for 10 days vs. twice daily for 7 days)
4. Wrong drug entirely Not even the same class of antibiotics
The look on her face as she tried to make sense of this was worth any amount of trouble on my part. Listening to her grind her teeth through four separate phone conversations with four different people trying to explain just how wrong this all was gave me the biggest laugh I’ve had in weeks. She was quite dramatic, explaining how she was too clever to have taken the drugs without thinking, but if she had and had been allergic, she might have died. (!) Or if she had truly needed them and they had been a week coming and not immediately to hand, she might have died. (!!) And how she did not want to pay $20 for a drug she did not need or ask for. Oh, the outrage! Ehehehehe! Imagine a small, irate, puffed-up bird hopping up and down and cheeping indignantly and you will not be far wrong.
I am now checking how much this spare doxycycline will fetch on the black market and…. Rats. It won’t buy Sigyn and me a vacation, or even a nice dinner, but perhaps we can split a cupcake and rent a movie. Oh, well, I’m not in this for the money.