So I'm walking up South Union Street on Wednesday afternoon and spot a small yellow piece of paper on the sidewalk. Being a curious sort (yes, believe it or not), I picked it up and found it was a prescription, written by a West Chester oral surgeon, for ibuprofen 600 mg. The patient was a Kennett Square woman.
I know how completely nuts I become when I can't find a grocery-store coupon at the checkout. So I could just imagine this poor woman, in pain and possibly gory after her oral surgery that required the high-dose pain meds, wracking her brain, retracing her steps and searching frantically through her purse, the car, the house for the prescription.
I looked online and couldn't find a phone number for her, so I ended up phoning the dentist's office and letting them know that I'd found the prescription. And then I shredded the script.
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