Karin Nelson

When my husband was released from the hospital on Saturday, he also got a prescription for some medication I was supposed to pick up for him. I helped him to the car, and told him to wait there for me, and that I would be right back. I ran over to the pharmacy where they had the prescription ready to go.

“Do you have extended health insurance?” the pharmacist asks. 
“Yes, of course”, I mumble, rummaging in my purse for the ID card. I don’t have the ID card. “I know the policy numbers!” I suggest. He tries for a while to get the computer to accept the numbers, but it won’t work. I’m thinking about my husband in the car, uncomfortable, wondering where the hell I am, and I am pressuring the pharmacist. 
“Just let me pay for it, I will try to claim the bill later on”, I say. The pharmacist hesitates. 
“How much is it?” I wonder, and he answers, “Oh, it’s $ 400.”
Now I’m rummaging in my purse again trying to find the credit card. I finally manage to pay the man and am about to leave, $ 400 poorer, as he calls me back.

“Excuse me, madam, sorry, I forgot to ask you if you would you like to donate some money for breast cancer research…”

My brain wants me to say: “First you make me wait, then you make me pay an atrocious amount of money and NOW you ask me for a donation? No, I don’t want to donate anything!”… but my heart wants me to say: “Of course I do”.
Heart wins. I hope karma remembers.