Monday, April 8, 2013

The Levaquin Lady is Looking for Love...

...in all the WRONG places. She's at least 15 years older than me, but she's gots the hots for yours truly. And who do we have to blame for this? Her son, Levaquin Boy.

Awhile back Levaquin Lady was in the hospital for pneumonia. When she returned home, Levaquin Boy came by with another script for Levaquin. Now she's up to 750mg TWICE DAILY. I've never seen such a high dose with any other patient. I've left several messages for the prescriber to call and talk this over with me, but he's got a God Complex and minions and pill-counters like us Doctors of Pharmacy are not important enough to call back.


Levaquin Boy was feeling sorry for his mom at home. She was discharged early because of new hospital rules regarding reimbursement which are a direct result of major changes in healthcare, but I wouldn't want to point any fingers at the culprit because there's just soooo many readers of this blog out there that are quite happy with the way things are going healthcare-wise. Someone might say "Socialist Libtards," but I won't.

Anyway, Levaquin Boy decided he wanted to make his mom feel better by getting her a little stuffed animal. I don't even remember what it was now... a chicken? A flamingo? Hell, I don't know. But what I do remember is that Levaquin Boy (he's 27 years old, by the way, living with mom "because of the FAILED ECONOMIC POLICIES of the BUSH ADMINISTRATION" -- whatever that means.) Levaquin Boy didn't want to his mom to know he bought the plush toy for her, so he asked if he could tell his mom that I bought it for her. 

"Sure," I said, not realizing what a mistake that would be someday. I imagine that's how the "Shake Weight" was funded by some capital finance company. "Sure, we'll pay to have that go into production." I can also imagine that's how a lot of crazy tattoos appear on people. "Sure, a skull with bleeding eyes looks like a good idea to me!"

So now when Levaquin Lady comes in, she rolls up (in one of those electric shopping carts) with her hair nicely combed, make-up on, and smelling of some cheap perfume. The perfume isn't enough to cover up the smell of her smoking a pack or more a day, so the blending of the smoke and perfume has a tendency to make me gag a little. And of course, now Levaquin Lady is really, really friendly toward me. I don't know whether to think it is cute or not but I just try to be nice and not fuel the fire started by Levaquin Boy. 

More stories about Levaquin Lady:

Levaquin Lady
Levaquin Lady, part deux


She was lookin' for love in the wrong place
Lookin' for love with a familiar pharmacy face
Searchin' my eyes, lookin' for traces
Of what she's dreamin' of
Hoping to find a friend and a lover
I'll bless the day she discovers,
SOMEONE ELSE - lookin' for her love...


5 comments:

DreamingTree said...

I used to think that your blog was semi-amusing, and I started reading it because it is on Dr. Grumpy's recommended list. The increasing number of bitter, insulting political comments have changed my opinion. It's your blog, your choice, but I'm not sure why you'd want to alienate left-leaning readers.

MagratRN said...

You're kind of silly. The corporate blockheads are making your work life miserable because of their greed, yet you want healthcare completely in their hands? Not sure if I'm left or right, but I'd love to know what you think is the answer here.

Janine said...

I have to agree with the other two posters. Clearly you hate the thought that the gov't might try to provide health insurance to those unable to afford it any other way, but I don't understand why. I also don't understand why you think it will make your life worse, since your problem seems to be that you hate the company you work for. Do you assume that if your company were to make even greater profits, they would somehow share it with you? Hire more people? You know that will never happen. They will assume that you were able to function before on whatever resources they provide, so why give you more?

Also you overlook a very real problem in this country. For 15 years I was self-employed and bought my own health insurance. Then the recession hit, my income plummeted yet my health insurance had risen to $800/mo. I had no choice but to drop it (along with a host of other "necessary" things like collision on my car, healthy food, etc.). For 5 years I lived in fear of becoming really ill. No matter what might be wrong, I had to hope it would heal on its own because no doctor would even see me without insurance--and the ER is much too expensive for non-emergent issues. It's a horrible feeling to have to live with such fear. Recently I was able to again get health insurance for a price I could afford because I still spend NO MONEY on anything that isn't critical to existence, like food. No restaurants, newspapers, vacations, or unnecessary trips in the car. NOTHING. But I can afford health insurance again. Maybe your utter lack of compassion has something to do with the fact that while you don't like your job, it has always included some health insurance so you don't know what it's like to live in fear of dying of something easily curable just because no doctor will see you?

And that's another thing: While I have health insurance, I don't have drug insurance because I only take one, inexpensive drug (synthetic/generic thyroid). But my local pharmacy chain charges me $30 for a month's supply, while WalMart charges me $4. So is WalMart subsidizing the other $26 in the hopes that I'll buy more than $26 worth of stuff while waiting for the prescription or is the chain ripping off those of us without insurance? What does it cost to make a thyroid pill? Something is seriously wrong with the way we do healthcare in this country and if there is any way that Omamacare will correct it, I'm all for it.

Crazy RxMan said...

I apologize if anyone was personally offended. I will be posting a reply to the comments made within a few days, so please stay tuned.

Crazy RxMan

Crazy RxMan said...

A reply will be posted Monday morning on the main blog page. Thanks for your patience.