Years ago I dropped a very large and heavy piece of equipment on my middle finder. Blood under the nail, swelling etc. Felt like the thing was going to explode so I went to the ER. I waited 3 fucking hours and the doc blows into the room, tears me off a prescription and goes to leave. I stopped her and asked if she just drain it or something. She said no and fucked off. Then I looked at the prescription - it was for a SINGLE Percocet. Not one refill, a single pill. The "DSB" written on the bottom let me know she thought I, a white man who rarely goes to the hospital was just out cruising for drugs.
I was there in my fucking branded work attire too. It's not like my story didn't jive.
I'm convinced, after hearing so many stories like yours, that they either sell the prescriptions on the side to addicts and then refuse to prescribe it to real patients in order to keep from showing up on the radar for overprescribing; or they are addicts themselves and are projecting their motivations on to you.
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