Confessions of a Free Range Prolapsed Catholic

The title of this contribution was my mantra for the last thirty years of working as a teacher. Today, five years post retirement it has come screaming back into my psyche as a result of a phone call to the Chemist.

With every other thing that is going on, however, the prospect of my bud of calm blossoming into hysteria is looming large and this morning it was nearly code red!

I admit we are in difficult times. My life has not been touched by the tragedy of a COVID death to hospitalisation. We have not run out of any supplies courtesy of home delivery. We may be getting a bit jittery about RAT tests because they are no where to be found but we are getting there.

I emailed a request for a repeat on one of my medications this morning. I have two tablets left. I take one a day. The program used by the Chemist to remind me of my medications, track prescriptions remaining etc showed that i have eleven days supply left. Wrong! So I sent of the order marked home delivery. Return email advised me that the order had been accepted for delivery and my card had been charged $17.00.

This set off a consultation with Long lean and Loveable about whether or not the medication had been removed from the PBS list. He is on the same medication and dose. He frequents the same chemist. Having contemplated a few more reasons why I loathe the Federal Government, I rang the Chemist.

“Oh no!” was the reassurance from the Chemist. “That medication is still on the PBS. Your order arrived just after the young fellow put in his and we just presumed we could add it to your order and deliver them together.” NEVER PRESUME went off in my head but did not come out of my mouth because I was bamboozled by the reference to the “young fellow”.

“Which young fellow? “

“The young fellow…. you know… hang on… I’ll check…..”
Now the closest thing to a young fellow we have in our house is our 34 year old son who is not on any prescribed medication but has, in the past picked up our orders.

“Yes, the young fellow…..Garold? Garold, yes that’s the one!” Garold turned 74 in December.

In the end it was all sorted of course. They thought they were doing us a favour. I suppose they thought they were saving Garold from risking the dangers of Omicron, so I can sort of see their logic but presumption?

NEVER PRESUME!