My device has an issue

I really did not want to spend the day in endless waiting, dealing with the niggling problems of everyday life. First an appointment with the retina specialist. I went knowing that eye appointments always take an eternity. To my amazement I was called right in to have my vision checked and my eyes dilated. But then I spent almost an hour and a half back in the waiting room before I saw the doctor. Waiting is an apt term for that room. I watched other people arrive, get called back, and leave—and still I sat.

Don’t get me wrong. I have had excellent care and come out on the lucky side of what could have been much worse. But patience is not my strong suit. I think some people can go to an instant state of meditation in such circumstances—I watched some people close their eyes and sit in apparent peace, and I envied them. Not me. I fidgeted. I checked my phone every few minutes. I tried to read on my phone, but it’s small for that.

And when I did see the doctor? Five minutes max. Again, I can’t complain—a good report. Come back in six months, no eye drops, everything is great. But, oh, go see the cornea specialist. Sorry, but I’m not in a hurry for that appointment.

Once home I tackled the pharmacy and the expensive prescriptions they gave me that I don’t need. This has been an ongoing battle, with Jordan running interference. The last time she tried to return them (we’re dealing with the only polite pharmacist so have to time our visits when he’s on duty), he said she had to have the card she’d paid with. I looked online, found the payment in my bank statement, and have the credit card. And he’ll be on duty tomorrow. Hope we can wrap that one up. You will not believe how expensive eye drops are. Those of you on Medicare will understand when I say I reached the “donut hole” by early May because of the eye drops in addition to the medications I regularly take. Christian said today, “What’s the donut hole?” Of course, he doesn’t know.

So to finish my day I got online with AT&T to find out why my phone doesn’t ring. Those chat sessions are useful, especially since I don’t hear well and do type fast, but sometimes I wonder how slowly the tech types or if perhaps they’re chatting with two or three people at once. I decided it was best not to multi-task, so I sat there staring at the screen, watching those little dots and the word, “Agent is typing.”

Long story short, my device has an issue. It’s not eligible for replacement, so the agent referred me to their insurance agency. Just give us the number where we can call you, she said. I explained that there was no number—after all, we were working on the problem that my phone is not accepting phone calls. She had a hard time with that, kept wanting an alternate number. I could hardly give Jordan and Christian’s numbers without telling them what’s going on and they aren’t home yet. So that’s at a standstill. I gave up my landline at exactly the wrong time.

Only good news on the niggling problem front is that I successfully set up and registered my Medical Guardian, so I’m all set to go—with no place to go.

I think I’ll have a glass of wine—or two!