Thursday, September 29, 2016

Dr. Dickwad


We get a new prescription for a controlled substance, sadly for a little old lady in a lot of pain that needs it right away. Unfortunately, the physician didn't scribble in his DEA # on the prescription blank which even had a spot for him to write it.

Even more unfortunate is when we try to look it up on our post modern and so amazing computer system, we can't find him. We use the address of the doctor and look up a Goofmart Pharmacy close by his office and call them. They don't have him either! Our web-based database doesn't have him as well. Nothing is going right today.

At this point were forced to call the physician, and you know as a pharmacist or technician that is our least favorite thing to do. After a couple of phone calls and a message left with an answering service (mind you, this is the middle of the day on Thursday when most pharmacists and doctors are still slaving away). Why? Because this guy is gone for the rest of the day.

So we had to tell the lady to wait in our waiting room. Poor thing, she was really in pain.

Twenty minutes later the phone rings. I talk to the doc and he gives me the DEA # then demands that repeat it back to him. Ok, that's fine, so I did. I said "Is that correct?" and he says, "Yes" and hangs up.

I hand the script to the tech. He types in the DEA #. The computer says it isn't a DEA #. I check it to make sure he typed it in correctly. I'm not actually like most doctors and have really nice handwriting, but I check it anyway and what we have on the computer matches what I've written down.

Soooooo.... we call the doc again and go through the paging process.... again.

Another twenty minutes passes. Doc calls. I tell him what we need to verify his DEA #.

"What did YOU write down?" he demands, pointedly.

I tell him what I wrote down. He tells me the last digit is a 4, not a 3. 

"Why did YOU write down a 3?" he asks, with attitude.

"Because that's what you said and verified when I read it back to you," I reply, but not saying "dickwad!" at the end of the sentence.

Ignoring my comment, he says, "Well hopefully you wrote it down correctly this time," as a parting shot and then hangs up.


Tuesday, September 27, 2016

To Live and Let Die... Twice

Natalie Norco was at the pharmacy yesterday with a new Norco Rx. "OK to fill early" is typed on the Rx. "Vacation override."

She's going to Idaho. Her father is dying. 

Only one problem...



He died last year. She used that excuse already. 

Poor guy. Dying twice must be tough. 

Monday, September 26, 2016

Superman has Kryptonite

Here's a shocker...

Husband/wife 65+ come in for shots. Granddaughter is due to give birth soon and the OB/GYN wants everyone inoculated. It's a fairly common request. 


Wife gets flu shot, then drags Husband in to get a flu shot and a Tdap. Husband never has had a Tdap or a flu shot. Why? Wife says he's afraid of shots.

He refused to fill out the form, so his wife did it for him. He refused to sign it. They quibbled for a good ten minutes then finally he signed it.

When I went to immunize him he actually tensed up and winced like a little girl. I've had little girls wiggle and cry. I even had a teenage boy cry. But this is the first time I've had a man act like a complete wuss.

What most seniors see when they get a shot:


(Hey look, I'm wearing a stethoscope again).

Apparently this is what the husband saw:



Send in the next victim. Muahahahahahaha

Saturday, September 24, 2016

Now Miss Loosey has a Chin Rash!

This lady truly is her own worst enemy. She read online that putting Vitamin C on the skin rejuvenates and brings out a healthy glow.

So what does she do? She coats her chin with Vitamin C, which caused a rash and now acne.

And of course, no story would be complete without her running down to the pharmacy to pester me about what she can do now to fix her chin.

"Stop believing everything you read on the Internet!" was my only advice.

Friday, September 23, 2016

This is me...



Listening to all your excuses
as to why you need
an early refill on your narcs...

Thursday, September 22, 2016

Next in Line!

After the remodel, things are different. And because things are different, our regular clientele don't know where they should stand and wait their turn. It seems previous obvious to me where they need to line up, but like I say... it's different than it was before.

Case in point....

We get a 4:30 pm rush. This happens sometimes. It's the Twilight Zone hour. People get off of work and race to the pharmacy to pick up their meds so they can then get home, eat, and tune into Duck Dynasty. 

The start of the line for the pick-up window is close to the line for the drop-off window. Oh, there's Miss Dumbleson. She's in line at the drop-off window. She must have a new prescription. This isn't surprising... she sees a new doctor almost every day. Oh and here comes Mrs. Loombaron. She flies right by the drop-off line and zooms right over to the register.

I step over to the will-call to get her medications off the shelf. Then I hear it...

"I'M NEXT IN LINE!" in a guttural, growling voice. Was it even human? I'm not sure who said it. It was loud and angry and deep and scary. "I'M NEXT!!!" -- Miss Dumbleson is looking at Mrs. Loombaron with a look that would melt ice. People pushing their carts by look at the situation in horror. A kid sitting in a cart has his mouth wide open. I saw a teenager that the store has who pushes a broom around quickly push the broom around the corner and vanish.

Miss Dumbleson is clearly not in the pick-up line, but I don't want to start a fight or get in the middle of things. This was one of the situations where you just want to slink into the corner and hide until it is all over. But I'm a grown man and well, you just can't do that.

Mrs. Loombaron, "I'm so sorry, I had no idea you were next in line. I'm so sorry, let me move."

And then as if angels themselves descended, Miss Dumbleson replies, in the most sweet, flowery voice you've ever heard, "It's ok, sweetie. It's not a big deal at all. You go next..."

I quickly check out Mrs. Loombaron and get Miss Dumbleson's meds ready to check out. I don't want to destroy this complete stroke of luck. The heavens have shined upon me today.

Upon finishing our transaction, Miss Dumbleson smiles at me... and with the same flowery voice, she says, "Happy a great day, Crazy!"