Tuesday, December 1, 2015

Einsteins walk among us.

I rarely (if ever) begin a Howdygram post with a sentence like this, so brace yourself: MONDAY WAS A DAY FROM THE PIT OF HELL, peppered with the misdeeds of Einsteins far and wide. Here’s the complete rundown in neat, subtitled paragraphs. I will attempt to type and consume an Idahoan instant mashed potato cup simultaneously because it’s never too early to practice for the senior citizen Olympics.

EINSTEIN #1 CALLS IN A PRESCRIPTION. I call Dr. M’s office (again) first thing Monday morning to request a 90-day refill for Amitriptyline ... the same damn medication I’ve been trying to wrangle from her staff since the week before Thanksgiving except everybody’s been IGNORING ME. Around 2 p.m. I finally get a confirmation email from Baylor Health that my prescription was called in to Wal-Mart’s pharmacy. Unfortunately, Einstein called in a refill for Glyburide because the spelling and pronunciation are so easy to mistake for Amitriptyline. Seriously, what the fuck is going on over there? I shoot back a fast email and tell Baylor to fix this immediately or I’ll have to run over a majority of their medical professionals with my new bariatric wheelchair if I ever get the goddamn thing. The outcome? I think I scared somebody, because I called Wal-Mart an hour later and the pharmacist said my Amitriptyline refill would be ready Tuesday after 1 p.m. (I’ll believe it when I see it.)

EINSTEIN #2 RUNS A CARDIOLOGY CLINIC. After calling Dr. Singh’s office this morning for the third time I learn that nobody who works for Cardiology Consultants of Texas actually knows how to reach this man. Apparently Dr. Singh divides his time between four clinics (Greenville, Mesquite, Rockwall and Baylor University Medical Center in Dallas) and when you leave a message for his nurse it’s the luck of the draw which location will call you back ... if they call you back. On Monday, though, Nurse Jessica finally returns my call. She is “deeply concerned” about my severe side effects from Metoprolol (the heart medication that tried to murder me; I discontinued it five days ago) and asks if I’ve ever worn a heart monitor. I say no. She says Dr. Singh might want me to wear a heart monitor for 24 hours. I say okay. She says he would be the one to “make that call.” I say okay. She asks can I come in on Tuesday (today). I say no because I don’t have a goddamn wheelchair right now and I can’t go anywhere without a goddamn wheelchair, goddamn it. She says fine, she’ll talk to Dr. Singh. I say, “Okay.” End of conversation. Pretty much what you’d expect from an Einstein with no authority who’s trying to sound important.

EINSTEINS 3 THRU 47 CAN’T DELIVER MY WHEELCHAIR. I was expecting FedEx to deliver my Drive Medical Sentra Extra-Wide Bariatric Wheelchair for Big Butts yesterday ... the final act in a comedy of errors that began almost two months ago on Amazon when three different Einstein sellers gladly took my order but eventually canceled without notice after charging my credit card but dicking around with a shipping date for weeks. I finally place an order with Shoplet after extracting a blood oath from Christopher the customer service dude that my chair was in stock and ready to ship. He promises he has it, so I order on November 18. If you’re interested in the salient details, my Drive Medical Sentra cost $701 with no sales tax and free shipping and includes the fancy-schmancy padded leg riggings shown below.
Sadly, at this point a few more Einsteins enter the picture. When I don’t receive an email with tracking information after two or three days I decide to get Christopher involved. He speaks to an Einstein in their shipping department who finally stops lying and admits that Shoplet doesn’t really have my chair in stock at all ... it’s at the manufacturer’s warehouse somewhere in the fucking Mojave Desert. After a full day of back and forth phone calls we finally learn that my chair shipped via FedEx Freight on November 21, and an Einstein at Drive Medical sends me tracking information with a bullshit delivery date of Wednesday, November 25. I use the term “bullshit” because a FedEx Einstein calls me around noon on the 25th to reschedule delivery for Monday, November 30, because HE DOESN’T KNOW and REASONS.

But the biggest Einstein fail is still yet to come.
Bright and early yesterday morning I get an outrageous phone call from Joel Einstein at FedEx Freight in Sunnyvale, which is maybe 15 minutes from home, asking me to please come get my wheelchair from their depot. I say, “You have to be kidding. FedEx is asking me to pick up my delivery?!” He says they only have a fleet of 18-wheelers and their trucks are too big (and not allowed) in my subdivision, so the only way I’ll ever get my wheelchair is if I pick it up myself. To which I reply, “Listen, pal, I’m a handicapped senior citizen and I don’t drive. I can’t even leave the house because I don’t have a wheelchair until you deliver it. SO FIGURE THIS OUT.” He’s polite but he refuses. So I go back to Christopher the customer service dude at Shoplet (remember him?) who gets into a series of verbal altercations with even more Einsteins at Drive Medical and FedEx Freight, eventually rescheduling delivery at no additional charge — damn right, asshole! — for the umpteenth time to Friday, December 4, thereby enabling FedEx Freight to drop off my chair to a FedEx Ground distribution center near Mesquite, and FedEx Ground will deliver in a normal-size van ... OR I’LL HAVE TO KILL SOMEBODY!

In addition to all of the aggravation detailed above Monday also was a day of intense and shitty ongoing pain issues that only subsided with Sam’s attention, an abundance of Norco and Szechwan food. Recovery is imminent. Thank you for giving a shit.

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