While sitting in the exam room I witness this old, white oldsmobile pulls up. (I can see this from the window in the exam room.) Now, please take a moment to envision Randy Quaid and his family in the Vacation movies. The people that stepped out of this car made Randy and his movie family look like the Hiltons or the Trumps. I wouldn't usually think twice, as I wouldn't usually have needed to even pay attention to the people, but....the woman gets out of the car and she is screaming at the top of her lungs at whomever she was on her cell phone with. I could hear her through the window!
The man gets out and is, I don't know what, but then he goes to the passenger side and is speaking with whomeever is sitting there. It seems as if he's trying to persuade said individual into getting out of the car and into the wheelchair he's brought around. The second person, a man, gets out with some struggle and stands up and it looks like he refuses to get into the wheelchair. He ends up back in the car. A few minutes later everyone has climbed back into the car and they take off.
You have now entered the Twilight Zone.
Next I go to Rite Aid, after finally being seen, to pick-up my antibiotics and Prilosec. The physician didn't write a script for the Priolsec since it's now offered OTC. She's told me to take it to see if it will relieve what is possibly GERD, aka the lump in my throat. I'd read on the 'net that it was possibly due to GERD, and a friend's husband had the same problem. I'm hoping the Prilosec does the job and I can cancel the barium swallow. (I really don't have time for it anyway.)
As the pharmacy tech tries to ring up my sale the electronic keypad I'm paying on with my debit card starts to act up. Meanwhile there's this woman pestering the pharmacists about her prescriptions. Evidently she's a frequent flyer and makes whenever she comes in.
Ever have one of those days where you wished you would've just stayed in bed? If this makes no sense whatsoever it's because my head feels like it's filled with cottonballs and my nose is running a marathon.