It's Sunday morning and my turn to work. I arrive at the pharmacy 15 minutes early. A guy is waiting for me. Great. Good times.
I open the door to the pharmacy and ask the man if he's picking up a prescription.
"Yes, I'm here to get a prescription for my wife, Mrs. Serotonin."
Mrs. Serotonin is currently on Wellbutrin, Effexor, and Abilify all at the same time in high doses, all from the same prescriber. I imagine she's great fun at parties.
I go to the will call cabinet and look for a prescription and nothing is there. I look on the counter, then check the order bin to see if something if it is on order for her. The entire time Mr. Serotonin watches me intently as I move all about the pharmacy.
I give up. "Well, I don't have anything for her," I say, as I move to the computer to boot up our fantastic software so I can fill her prescription.
"It would have been called in this morning," he says.
I couldn't stop myself. "Really?!?!?" I said to the guy.
He looks at me, quiet.
"You let me wander all around the pharmacy looking for a prescription that YOU KNOW hasn't even been filled yet?"
He's still quiet. We're caught in a stare off. It lasted maybe ten seconds.
"I'm ok with waiting," he says.
I get the computer going. No e-scripts. I go to the fax. No faxes. I go to the voicemail. There it is, called in around the time we open. The doc didn't let it ring through to the pharmacy, rather she chose to just leave a message.
I listen to the message. She's on a cell phone driving somewhere. ATTENTION DOCTORS DOING THIS ~ STOP DOING THIS. Anyway, she doesn't leave instructions on how to take the medication.
"Really?!?!?" I think to myself.
I go to the counter where Mr. Serotonin is still staring at me. I tell him that a message was left, that I need to call the doctor back because she didn't leave instructions, and that it would be AT LEAST 30 minutes before I get the prescription filled."
"Ok, I'll be back," he says.
I immediately call the doctor, get patched through to the answering service, explain the situation, and leave my number. Within two minutes the doctor called me back. Maybe things are turning around for the day, I thought.
I get the instructions, type and print a label. Maybe ten minutes has passed. I start filling the script. I sense movement in front of the pharmacy. I look up.
It's Mr. Serotonin. "Is it ready yet?"
I ask him. I'm giving him stink eye. For love of all that's holy, he's back in 10 minutes AFTER I told him it would be 30 minutes.
He's just quiet.
I get the script filled. It's a zero co-pay, so I just bag it and hand it to him. If I open my mouth at this point, I'm likely to say what I'm really thinking and if I repeat what I was thinking here it would likely break the Internet.