In pharmacy school we learned about lotions and potions, drops and solutions, tablets and capsules, all manner of patches, elixirs, suspensions, and what not. We learned about medications, what they treat, side effects, and interactions with other drugs. We learned about various drug delivery devices of all kinds. But they didn't teach us how not to laugh when patients say the oddest things.
That we have to learn on our own.
Mary Mess came by. She wants to swap out the remaining syringes that she received on her last visit for the manufacturer she had before.
From what she tells me, she was recently given "Vanish Point" syringes to go with her cyanocobalamin prescription. Mary Mess is a little upset no one told her about the new syringes.
I tell her there's no problem with her issue. I'll be happy to give her a replacement. But then I had to ask why.
Lesson number one: Don't ask too many questions.
Mary Mess tells me how she was injecting herself she hear a click and then when she pulled the syringe away, the needle wasn't sticking out of the syringe. She tells me she freaked out, thinking the needle was stuck inside her. She ended up at the Emergency Room insisting that the needle was inside her body.
Lesson number two: Don't laugh.
I'm telling you it took a great deal of inner strength not to laugh. Seriously. The name of the syringe is VANISH Point. I can only imagine the laughter down at the hospital.
Lesson number three: Counsel the Patient
If you're going to give a patient a Vanish Point syringe, you better explain the click and the retraction. Someone here at my pharmacy missed that part or Mary Mess wasn't paying attention. Make sure the patient understands how it works.
Saturday, November 28, 2015
One of our patients is Santa.
I don't know what he's doing in our state. He should be up at the north pole. But he's here, and he's on high blood pressure medication.
I've been a pretty good boy this year, so I thought I would ask Santa for a present.
I asked him if I could have my old girlfriend back. She dumped me for a taller guy. Yeah, he's taller, but he makes about $110,500 less per year than I do a year. And there's something about choking his own son and a restraining order, but I digress. I'm sure he's a fine fellow.
Santa looked me straight in the eye.
"Let it go, kid. She ain't coming back."
So now I'm beginning to think maybe he's NOT the real Santa.