yesterday at the torture pharmacy

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I met a Vietnam vet who was experiencing similar inexplicably weird problems with the understaffed pharmacy that is doing the exactly wrong thing in a town where yet another megapharmacy is about to open. This left us there seated in the waiting area together for quite a while.

He was telling me his recent surgery for a number of stents resulted in him having to go on insulin for his Type II diabetes. I immediately began on my spiel about how to lose his diabetes, and he said, no, that doesn't work when your pancreas is totally shot, and I'm not badgering about how it wouldn't be shot anymore if he ate right because he's telling me his heart disease and diabetes are from Agent Orange.

He's 69, seemed pretty hale for someone that sick and totally about the doctors and the medications... so I just listened. It pained me to do it, but an hour earlier into this debacle I'd been in line with a very tall fat woman who was groaning from back pain and yammering about how her mother wasn't being solicitous enough and she was threatening to stop cooking for her and giving her her diabetes meds. "Go out and get your own! And cook for yourself too."

She was so fat her feet splayed when she stood erect... her ankles trying to head for the floor under all that weight. I mentioned that she could get rid of her, and her mother's, diabetes if they cut out the carbs. She said, "Oh, no, couldn't do without the occasional sugary treat."

These were the only two fat customers there. The rest of them but for a few normal sized people were comic book skinny and abjectly adorned in various heavily hip accessories. I'm thinking the heroin and meth have reached Crescent City for real. It's not just down in Humboldt anymore.

pipe up any time....