I seem to have developed a trend with these insightful, all-entertaining notes of mine. I noticed that I begin my amusing little gems with some sort of commentary, or at the very least a slanted take, on current news. To continue in this vein and yet to break up the monotony of it all, I will begin this note with some current sporting news (that ought to be interesting to about 3 of you).
Brett Favre announced we will not see him playing in purple this season; although, with three shots to the chest and one to the head, I suppose we can say the same thing about Steve McNair. YEAH, I WENT THERE! Michael Vick has just been reinstated by NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell after his jail-time for bankrolling a dog-fighting ring. Several teams have looked into signing him, but the most disturbing rumor I saw was that the Cleveland Browns are interested. I cannot imagine how that would go over with the "Dawg Pound" (a group of fans who dress up like dogs, complete with masks and giant, plastic bones). Maybe next he could be the spokesperson for some puppy chow or Master of Ceremony and Head Judge for the Eukanuba and American Kennel Club's Nation Championship Dog Show. HA!
Moving on...
Drive-through etiquette (written as spoken to violators):
1. Please, do not have midget arms! If you park some ungodly distance away from the window, why, Sweet Jesus, must you insist on barely sticking your hand out the window? I should not have to bend completely over and stretch out to hand you transactional items. What do you want me to do? Should I hook my feet inside the window, get a nylon rope, some Carabiners, and a belay device or two (yeah...I know about rappelling) and rappel myself down to your car for you? IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT BECAUSE I'LL DO IT! I WILL CERTAINLY DO IT, YOU SHORT-ARMED WILDEBEEST!
2. Get off the phone or I will take it and feed it to Rosie O'Donnell; she'll probably swallow it whole like she does full-grown, live cows, small children, and parts of Elizabeth Hasselbeck! I know it is a modern, electronic age, but why must your cell be perpetually connected to your head? I would not mind if you could multitask and speak to me, but you insist on plowing through your long-winded conversation with your other boring, annoying, fake friends. SO RUDE! You know you are pulling up to the pharmacy. Tell your friend you have to pick up your psycho meds, and you will call them back after being sedated.
3. Why don't you know what prescription or how many you are getting? Do not get angry when I ask you. It is a legitimate question. I am not asking you the color of your ginormous underwear (of which can be used as a makeshift parachute).
4. When I get the prescription you drop off and check to see if all your information is in the system, do not drive further so you can see. You make me feel as though I am doing something wrong. I am not flipping your prescription over and drawing a caricature of you with an arrow pointing to you saying, "RETARD!" I am certainly not looking up pornography on the internet (we do not have any internet access as all hardware and software is antiquated to the point that the guy at Goodwill would laugh at you if you tried to donate anything).
5. When I need to do something to your prescription (i.e. edit the date, add a coupon/voucher, edit the day-supply, refund...) , and tell you to go around - DO IT! DON'T BE RUDE! PEOPLE BEHIND YOU SHOULDN'T WAIT FOR SOMETHING THAT IS ALMOST ALWAYS YOU FAULT!
6. Don't be grabby! I have to run your card or get your change, so put your hand down or I will slap it. I am in a slapping mood, so do not tempt me. While I am at, I will also be slapping your horrible children - right in their spoiled, snot-covered, crying faces. Don't mind the smile, it is only because I am really enjoying it. You are a poor excuse for a parent by the way...a belt...or a fist...maybe a pillowcase full of nickles...
7. DO NOT SMOKE! DO NOT SMOKE! DO NOT SMOKE! If you choose to slowly kill yourself, I am totally cool with that, but don't come blowing smoke in my face. Not only is it unfathomably rude, I could sue you - and win for assault with a deadly weapon (look it up...). I do not need to be breathing all that crap from your cancer stick. This one really pisses me off. If you have ever seen what Michael Madsen's character does in "Reservoir Dogs" with a cigarette...if only...
8. You are on Medicaid - fine. You roll up in your BMW with 22''s or a fully loaded Altima (still a $35,000 car) and get crazy in my face - we have a problem. The taxpayers are paying for your prescription (me included). This certainly does not entitle you to get loud and demanding. No, you cannot demand brand. No, you cannot get a giftcard. No, I am not calling them to get them to make it $0 when it runs though as $5. You have a much better situation than I do, so I have no sympathy for you wanting all kinds of other stuff. There are plenty of people who get assistance that are honestly using funds. Quit abusing the system, and quit giving me attitude because the government has decided that for one instance it won't wipe your butt for you and pay for everything (though, clearly, you are lying about your financial situation). You are the lowest of scum on earth, and a drain on society. The banking system and real estate markets have a lot to do with the current state of the economy, but people just like you scamming and fraudulently using and abusing welfare initiatives like Medicaid are a bigger problem because that will not go away. Way to perpetuate stereotypes!
I was going to write about a crazy lady that #8 reminded me of, but now I am too pissed off to add any humor to the story.
Until next time...
Monday, November 16, 2009
Automated Audacity (originally posted 7/14/09)
My proposal for a new, automated message and routing service when you call the pharmacy:
"Thank you for calling your friendly, 24-hour pharmacy, where we guarantee to quickly and professionally handle you prescription needs...barring any complications such as your insurance not paying pending the resolution of: prior authorizations, refills to soon, monthly limit met, a non-formulary drug, patient not covered, diagnosis code missing, invalid birthdate, invalid gender, invalid person code, invalid group, bill to primary, or any various other creative and blatant excuses for not paying...
Other complications could include but are not limited to: drug not in stock, drug not available/discontinued drug/recalled drug, missing or ambiguous drug name/quantity/strength/dispensing instructions/date of prescription/DEA number/controlled drug serial number/Prescriber's name, etc.
Please note that if you are dropping off, submitting refills online, submitting refills or on-hold prescriptions by phone, or otherwise trying to get your medications after 10PM, due to the "doctors" on staff at those hours you stand a better chance on getting your medicine in one of those machines that rolls out cheap stickers, rings, and other crap when you put a quarter in it. If you do encounter a "doctor", it is imperative you allow them to continue sleeping (they need lots of rest in order to keep up their do-nothing-at-all work ethic).
Anyways...hmmm...oh yeah, please listen carefully as our options have changed. In order to better serve you, please listen to all options before making a selection. We will then connect you to the chosen line and torture you with a continuous musical loop of cheezy, elevator music, followed by an upbeat-yet-suicidal-thought-inducing, unrecognizable classical piece, followed by a song by Aaron Neville.
To skip all processing and get a handful of Vicodin at the window in the next 3 minutes, please press 1.
To complain that the overnight people yelled at you/didn't help you/made you pray/kicked your shins/tried to eat your child/turned colors, burst into flames, and tried an aerial attack on you and your loved ones while speaking ancient Latin in a Satanic-voice/etc., please press 2.
To set up an appointment to bother the unfortunate soul at drive-through, bang on the window with the world's smallest and therefore most useless umbrella, complain that you will urinate on yourself, and peel of like a drunken frat-boy, please press 3.
To transfer your prescription in or out to take advantage of the coupon/gift card system, please press 4.
To ask one of the pharmacy staff why your doctor keeps prescribing anti-psychotics, please press 5.
To ask why your bag is too big and find out if it is, indeed, your prostate, please press 6.
To have us order the most vain medication in the world, the eyelash grower Latisse, please press 7.
If you are an airhead nurse from a doctors office, and wish to call in a prescription where you either talk too fast, refuse to spell out weird patient names, completely mess up the prescription, or otherwise solidify yourself as a disgrace to the other competent and knowledgeable people of your profession, please press 8.
If you would like us to flavor eye/ear drops, suppositories, creams/lotions/gels, tablets/capsules/caplets, or IUD's, please press 9.
If you look like a hooker/crackhead/drug dealer/psycho and would like us to fill promethazine with codeine or any other controlled substance, please hang up or go to Walgreen's.
To repeat the options, please press the star key (*)."
What do you think?
"Thank you for calling your friendly, 24-hour pharmacy, where we guarantee to quickly and professionally handle you prescription needs...barring any complications such as your insurance not paying pending the resolution of: prior authorizations, refills to soon, monthly limit met, a non-formulary drug, patient not covered, diagnosis code missing, invalid birthdate, invalid gender, invalid person code, invalid group, bill to primary, or any various other creative and blatant excuses for not paying...
Other complications could include but are not limited to: drug not in stock, drug not available/discontinued drug/recalled drug, missing or ambiguous drug name/quantity/strength/dispensing instructions/date of prescription/DEA number/controlled drug serial number/Prescriber's name, etc.
Please note that if you are dropping off, submitting refills online, submitting refills or on-hold prescriptions by phone, or otherwise trying to get your medications after 10PM, due to the "doctors" on staff at those hours you stand a better chance on getting your medicine in one of those machines that rolls out cheap stickers, rings, and other crap when you put a quarter in it. If you do encounter a "doctor", it is imperative you allow them to continue sleeping (they need lots of rest in order to keep up their do-nothing-at-all work ethic).
Anyways...hmmm...oh yeah, please listen carefully as our options have changed. In order to better serve you, please listen to all options before making a selection. We will then connect you to the chosen line and torture you with a continuous musical loop of cheezy, elevator music, followed by an upbeat-yet-suicidal-thought-inducing, unrecognizable classical piece, followed by a song by Aaron Neville.
To skip all processing and get a handful of Vicodin at the window in the next 3 minutes, please press 1.
To complain that the overnight people yelled at you/didn't help you/made you pray/kicked your shins/tried to eat your child/turned colors, burst into flames, and tried an aerial attack on you and your loved ones while speaking ancient Latin in a Satanic-voice/etc., please press 2.
To set up an appointment to bother the unfortunate soul at drive-through, bang on the window with the world's smallest and therefore most useless umbrella, complain that you will urinate on yourself, and peel of like a drunken frat-boy, please press 3.
To transfer your prescription in or out to take advantage of the coupon/gift card system, please press 4.
To ask one of the pharmacy staff why your doctor keeps prescribing anti-psychotics, please press 5.
To ask why your bag is too big and find out if it is, indeed, your prostate, please press 6.
To have us order the most vain medication in the world, the eyelash grower Latisse, please press 7.
If you are an airhead nurse from a doctors office, and wish to call in a prescription where you either talk too fast, refuse to spell out weird patient names, completely mess up the prescription, or otherwise solidify yourself as a disgrace to the other competent and knowledgeable people of your profession, please press 8.
If you would like us to flavor eye/ear drops, suppositories, creams/lotions/gels, tablets/capsules/caplets, or IUD's, please press 9.
If you look like a hooker/crackhead/drug dealer/psycho and would like us to fill promethazine with codeine or any other controlled substance, please hang up or go to Walgreen's.
To repeat the options, please press the star key (*)."
What do you think?
Incontinence and Indignation (originally posted 6/26/09)
The Iranians can stop protesting...I have finally decided to post again! With the "King of Pop" kicking the proverbial bucket this week (some reports say from our good friend in the pharmacy world - the opioid narcotic, Demerol), the self-proclaimed "King of Expressing How Very Soul-Sucking and Bursting-Little-Capillaries-In-My-Head-Inducing Working in a Pharmacy Happens to Be" felt I should rattle off some details of oddities from the month hiatus.
Umbrella-Woman:
So, I am at the drive-through (it's "through" not "thru" - don't be lazy). An older lady with no neck (you know - one of those head-directly-on-the-sternum types) pulls up and tells me her name. GOOD FOR YOU, WHAT DO YOU WANT? She says her prescription is ready. I look it up. NOPE! I finally locate her script in the section where we put drugs that need to be ordered. GREAT, SHE'S GOING TO EAT ME WHEN SHE FINDS OUT WE DON'T HAVE HER DRUGS. I inform her that we are ordering her drug and she can get it tomorrow after 4pm, or I can call another store and see if they have it. Her ginormous eyes well up and she says she is going out of town, cannot wait, and needs her drug so she won't (drum roll please...) "pee on herself". ON THE INSIDE I HAVE ALREADY PASSED OUT FROM LAUGHING TOO MUCH AND BREATHING TOO LITTLE! I notice that it was ordered 2 days ago and should be in already, so I go look for it. I find it, and tell her I will fill her Rx right away. There is a beaming smile from no-neck lady. I run it through her insurance and get a rejection. AWESOME! I call the insurance to find out what is wrong. They tell me she has to order by mail.
Then, it happens...
She presses the button to make that annoying automated man scream that there is a drive-through! A colleague (who has foolishly decided to work for CVS as soon as she gets her license) goes to open the door. I stop her and tell her that since the lady has now pissed me off, she has to wait until I am ready for her.
It gets worse...
Next I hear this freaking mastodon banging on the window with one of those tiny, compact umbrellas. First thing that comes to mind is, "who in the hell thinks an umbrella with a 7-inch diameter is going to protect them from the rain?" Then, in a blind fury, I whip open the window. Her eyes got so wide I thought they were just going to keep expanding and completely engulf her entire head. I tell her mockingly, "Thanks for being so patient. I ran it through your insurance, and they are not going to pay for it." She goes into this rambling tirade about "how dare you not give me my prescription"...blah, blah, blah... (I start daydreaming about her giant body rolling over her poor SUV...) I tell her that all I was trying to convey to her was that her insurance was not going to pay for it. I tell her she is free to pay out-of-pocket or take her Rx elsewhere. She yells that she will pay for it. I inform her of the price, and she starts yelling that she didn't want a full month supply, only enough for a week until her mail-order arrives. I WILL STAB YOU WITH A PEN! I told her that was fine, and that all she had to do was to tell me that was her intention all along. I DO NOT KNOW YOUR WHOLE STORY UNLESS YOU TELL ME SEA-COW!!! She says that I didn't ask! I re-run her prescription for a week supply, and send her on her way while the bearded pharmacist laughs in spite of me.
Moral of this story - incontinence makes people (neck or no neck) extremely irritable. This is yet another example of why I can't wait to get through school and get a real job. Even if I must deal with the same people as a doctor, at least I will be making a substantial amount more and have a license to kill anyone who pisses me off too much.
Until next time...
Umbrella-Woman:
So, I am at the drive-through (it's "through" not "thru" - don't be lazy). An older lady with no neck (you know - one of those head-directly-on-the-sternum types) pulls up and tells me her name. GOOD FOR YOU, WHAT DO YOU WANT? She says her prescription is ready. I look it up. NOPE! I finally locate her script in the section where we put drugs that need to be ordered. GREAT, SHE'S GOING TO EAT ME WHEN SHE FINDS OUT WE DON'T HAVE HER DRUGS. I inform her that we are ordering her drug and she can get it tomorrow after 4pm, or I can call another store and see if they have it. Her ginormous eyes well up and she says she is going out of town, cannot wait, and needs her drug so she won't (drum roll please...) "pee on herself". ON THE INSIDE I HAVE ALREADY PASSED OUT FROM LAUGHING TOO MUCH AND BREATHING TOO LITTLE! I notice that it was ordered 2 days ago and should be in already, so I go look for it. I find it, and tell her I will fill her Rx right away. There is a beaming smile from no-neck lady. I run it through her insurance and get a rejection. AWESOME! I call the insurance to find out what is wrong. They tell me she has to order by mail.
Then, it happens...
She presses the button to make that annoying automated man scream that there is a drive-through! A colleague (who has foolishly decided to work for CVS as soon as she gets her license) goes to open the door. I stop her and tell her that since the lady has now pissed me off, she has to wait until I am ready for her.
It gets worse...
Next I hear this freaking mastodon banging on the window with one of those tiny, compact umbrellas. First thing that comes to mind is, "who in the hell thinks an umbrella with a 7-inch diameter is going to protect them from the rain?" Then, in a blind fury, I whip open the window. Her eyes got so wide I thought they were just going to keep expanding and completely engulf her entire head. I tell her mockingly, "Thanks for being so patient. I ran it through your insurance, and they are not going to pay for it." She goes into this rambling tirade about "how dare you not give me my prescription"...blah, blah, blah... (I start daydreaming about her giant body rolling over her poor SUV...) I tell her that all I was trying to convey to her was that her insurance was not going to pay for it. I tell her she is free to pay out-of-pocket or take her Rx elsewhere. She yells that she will pay for it. I inform her of the price, and she starts yelling that she didn't want a full month supply, only enough for a week until her mail-order arrives. I WILL STAB YOU WITH A PEN! I told her that was fine, and that all she had to do was to tell me that was her intention all along. I DO NOT KNOW YOUR WHOLE STORY UNLESS YOU TELL ME SEA-COW!!! She says that I didn't ask! I re-run her prescription for a week supply, and send her on her way while the bearded pharmacist laughs in spite of me.
Moral of this story - incontinence makes people (neck or no neck) extremely irritable. This is yet another example of why I can't wait to get through school and get a real job. Even if I must deal with the same people as a doctor, at least I will be making a substantial amount more and have a license to kill anyone who pisses me off too much.
Until next time...
Weirdos at the Window (originally posted 5/28/09)
Prepare yourselves for a long post, and try not to urinate on yourself from the over-stimulating excitement. I think this will be the best one yet!
Job Description:
I have come to the realization that my position in the pharmacy exists for only three reasons. Now, of course, I will list those reasons for comic effect and to inform you, my loyal readers of how often I think about going on a 3-month lunch break (picture me running with my arms flailing about and screaming nonsensical words like those dirty, dirty homeless people on every corner of Katy begging for money and dreaming about the next time they can get their filthy hands on a cat to beat with a stolen wire hanger...).
Reason 1: To put up with our most- likely mentally impaired District Loss Prevention Manager (with her fake name and fake gender), our ridiculous PCI program (here's a good idea - let's print lists of people to annoy, and make sure we time the phone call), and our "Doctors" (armed with prayer and a license to kill).
Reason 2: To hand out Soma, Vicodin, Darvocet, Celebrex, and various other pain meds to addicts. Hand out Ambien and Lunesta to people whining about not getting to sleep. To hand out Lexapro, Prozac, Zoloft, and Paxil for the crybabies who are so very sad...boo-freaking-hoo. To hand out Vyvanse, Adderall, Ritalin, and Strattera to people's spaz kids (how about telling your damn kids to behave or get a hand to the freaking face).
Reason 3: To stand their while irate "patients" proceed to ear-rape me with some prolonged Dr. Coxian-rant about blah, blah, blah, I'm not listening and daydreaming about using a Taser on your fat face!
Anywho,
Flare-up at the drive-through:
A certain person pulls up to the window with their certain same-sex "special friend". Since I have become the apparent heir to the pharmacy piss-on position who must get practically every pick-up (you all know who I am passively aggressively talking to!), I get the great honor of benefiting from being present to record one of the most God-awful, vulgarity-infused rants of all time. The guy (and HIS guy) wants to pick up an Rx of a certain opiate pain-killer that rhymes with morphine sulfate (an exact rhyme). Only the Pharmacy Manager can order this classification of drugs, and our supplier was unable to deliver it - in short, we do not have it. The following quote is as best as I can remember:
"You know, this is f#cking bullsh!t. I had her order that sh!t a f#cking month ago! I need it every month! I told her to order a 6-month supply. I know it's not your fault; you've always been very helpful. You need to tell (name excluded) to get off her @ss, and order the sh!t I tell her to order! You need to call every CVS, HEB, and Walgreens and find someone who has it! I better have this done in two hours! I got shorted 7 days of this sh!t last month. Don't make me call Roger (name not excluded) and the corporate office. You have one f#cking hour! Tell (name excluded) that she needs to stop sitting on her @ss! I shouldn't have to go to three or four pharmacies! I've spent $27,000 at this pharmacy..."
I sent him to Walgreens. Then, I searched for some aloe vera with lidocaine to soothe by sunburns on my arms and face from his epic flare-up. Every time this guy comes up to the pharmacy he has to complain about something (I've paid $4,000 - why is there a copay?). I see him and I automatically think about the Human Torch from the Fantastic Four. FLAME ON! I pictured the guy spontaneously combusting and lighting the whole van on fire. That would be awesome! Nothing against his chosen lifestyle, it just adds an entirely new facet of hilariousness to every episode. By the way, it would take me about a year and a half to earn $27,000.
Antifungal fiasco:
A rather large lady hands me a script at my FAVORITE PLACE IN THE WORLD (the drive-through window. It's for an antifungal cream. Super! I get her DOB and ask her when she would like to pick it up (even though it's going to be an hour wait anyway). She asks how long it would take. An hour. She makes some sort of under-the-breath remark about how incredibly long an hour is (by the looks of her - about how long she can nurse a plate of an entire family of chickens - most likely still alive and squawking for dear life). Anyway, I tell her I will see her in an hour. Woo-hoo...
By the time she comes back (ten minutes or 1.83 poor, poor chickens later), I was typing an Rx for some random addict who is drooling and waiting for their hydrocododones - I'll stop there on that tangent. A certain colleague from a country that rhymes with Egypt is searching for a hardcopy of a script whilst talking on the phone to someone. Lo and behold - it's Little Miss Yeasty! He inquires about something, but I don't know what he's talking about. He says she's at the window and on the phone. I hang up the phone. I go over to the window, and ask her what she needs. She wants to know if we will price-patch Walmart. NO!
"How much is it going to be?"
"Well, I don't know, you have insurance don't you?"
"Yeah"
"I guess it will be whatever you normally pay for a generic."
"How much is that?"
CHRIST! I look at her profile. "It should be $10."
"Well, fine! Is anyone working on it? Is it ready?!"
"Well, since it's only been ten minutes (no mention of chickens to her face), it has not been completed yet. It will be about another 40 minutes. I'm sorry about the wait time."
"I don't understand why it takes so long. It comes in a box!"
I'LL PUT YOU IN A BOX! "It's not about how easy it is to process, it is the fact that there are at least 50 people in front of you."
"Now I remember why I usually go to Walmart!" She says this before racing off. I decide it is lunch time (I feel like chicken for some reason).
Now someone definitely has a note in their profile that reads "BIZNATCH!!!!" every time we look at her file. The best way to take advantage of Walmart's $4 generic plan is to ACTUALLY GO TO WALMART! I wanted to inform this chicken-masticating, whale of a woman that they invented a substance in Babylon about 5,000 years ago that consists mainly of lye, fat, and ash that will protect one from the horrible fate of the yeast infection - it's called SOAP! BUY SOME - USE IT! This would have stopped this bizarre chain of events from playing out in front of me.
Until next time...
Job Description:
I have come to the realization that my position in the pharmacy exists for only three reasons. Now, of course, I will list those reasons for comic effect and to inform you, my loyal readers of how often I think about going on a 3-month lunch break (picture me running with my arms flailing about and screaming nonsensical words like those dirty, dirty homeless people on every corner of Katy begging for money and dreaming about the next time they can get their filthy hands on a cat to beat with a stolen wire hanger...).
Reason 1: To put up with our most- likely mentally impaired District Loss Prevention Manager (with her fake name and fake gender), our ridiculous PCI program (here's a good idea - let's print lists of people to annoy, and make sure we time the phone call), and our "Doctors" (armed with prayer and a license to kill).
Reason 2: To hand out Soma, Vicodin, Darvocet, Celebrex, and various other pain meds to addicts. Hand out Ambien and Lunesta to people whining about not getting to sleep. To hand out Lexapro, Prozac, Zoloft, and Paxil for the crybabies who are so very sad...boo-freaking-hoo. To hand out Vyvanse, Adderall, Ritalin, and Strattera to people's spaz kids (how about telling your damn kids to behave or get a hand to the freaking face).
Reason 3: To stand their while irate "patients" proceed to ear-rape me with some prolonged Dr. Coxian-rant about blah, blah, blah, I'm not listening and daydreaming about using a Taser on your fat face!
Anywho,
Flare-up at the drive-through:
A certain person pulls up to the window with their certain same-sex "special friend". Since I have become the apparent heir to the pharmacy piss-on position who must get practically every pick-up (you all know who I am passively aggressively talking to!), I get the great honor of benefiting from being present to record one of the most God-awful, vulgarity-infused rants of all time. The guy (and HIS guy) wants to pick up an Rx of a certain opiate pain-killer that rhymes with morphine sulfate (an exact rhyme). Only the Pharmacy Manager can order this classification of drugs, and our supplier was unable to deliver it - in short, we do not have it. The following quote is as best as I can remember:
"You know, this is f#cking bullsh!t. I had her order that sh!t a f#cking month ago! I need it every month! I told her to order a 6-month supply. I know it's not your fault; you've always been very helpful. You need to tell (name excluded) to get off her @ss, and order the sh!t I tell her to order! You need to call every CVS, HEB, and Walgreens and find someone who has it! I better have this done in two hours! I got shorted 7 days of this sh!t last month. Don't make me call Roger (name not excluded) and the corporate office. You have one f#cking hour! Tell (name excluded) that she needs to stop sitting on her @ss! I shouldn't have to go to three or four pharmacies! I've spent $27,000 at this pharmacy..."
I sent him to Walgreens. Then, I searched for some aloe vera with lidocaine to soothe by sunburns on my arms and face from his epic flare-up. Every time this guy comes up to the pharmacy he has to complain about something (I've paid $4,000 - why is there a copay?). I see him and I automatically think about the Human Torch from the Fantastic Four. FLAME ON! I pictured the guy spontaneously combusting and lighting the whole van on fire. That would be awesome! Nothing against his chosen lifestyle, it just adds an entirely new facet of hilariousness to every episode. By the way, it would take me about a year and a half to earn $27,000.
Antifungal fiasco:
A rather large lady hands me a script at my FAVORITE PLACE IN THE WORLD (the drive-through window. It's for an antifungal cream. Super! I get her DOB and ask her when she would like to pick it up (even though it's going to be an hour wait anyway). She asks how long it would take. An hour. She makes some sort of under-the-breath remark about how incredibly long an hour is (by the looks of her - about how long she can nurse a plate of an entire family of chickens - most likely still alive and squawking for dear life). Anyway, I tell her I will see her in an hour. Woo-hoo...
By the time she comes back (ten minutes or 1.83 poor, poor chickens later), I was typing an Rx for some random addict who is drooling and waiting for their hydrocododones - I'll stop there on that tangent. A certain colleague from a country that rhymes with Egypt is searching for a hardcopy of a script whilst talking on the phone to someone. Lo and behold - it's Little Miss Yeasty! He inquires about something, but I don't know what he's talking about. He says she's at the window and on the phone. I hang up the phone. I go over to the window, and ask her what she needs. She wants to know if we will price-patch Walmart. NO!
"How much is it going to be?"
"Well, I don't know, you have insurance don't you?"
"Yeah"
"I guess it will be whatever you normally pay for a generic."
"How much is that?"
CHRIST! I look at her profile. "It should be $10."
"Well, fine! Is anyone working on it? Is it ready?!"
"Well, since it's only been ten minutes (no mention of chickens to her face), it has not been completed yet. It will be about another 40 minutes. I'm sorry about the wait time."
"I don't understand why it takes so long. It comes in a box!"
I'LL PUT YOU IN A BOX! "It's not about how easy it is to process, it is the fact that there are at least 50 people in front of you."
"Now I remember why I usually go to Walmart!" She says this before racing off. I decide it is lunch time (I feel like chicken for some reason).
Now someone definitely has a note in their profile that reads "BIZNATCH!!!!" every time we look at her file. The best way to take advantage of Walmart's $4 generic plan is to ACTUALLY GO TO WALMART! I wanted to inform this chicken-masticating, whale of a woman that they invented a substance in Babylon about 5,000 years ago that consists mainly of lye, fat, and ash that will protect one from the horrible fate of the yeast infection - it's called SOAP! BUY SOME - USE IT! This would have stopped this bizarre chain of events from playing out in front of me.
Until next time...
Mean People Suck (originally posted 5/13/09)
Not an original idea - I know. We have all seen this on bumper stickers. I am not claiming the coinage of this phrase, so no need to contact the plagiarism police. Anywho, in rare moments where I find myself inexplicably being overly-nice in some bizarre form of personality spasm, I have noticed a trend. These weak moments of character where I disgustingly ignore my experience-defined jerk-osity (I will accept the coinage of this word) and divulge in conformity of social niceties and helpfulness, I have found that the recipients of my attempts at goodwill pimp-slap me back into my former state by reacting with an overall indifference or even viciousness. This occurrence truly alarms and amuses me.
Case in point, two days ago I inform a customer that his Rx is only for one tube of cream. He angrily tells me that it is supposed to be two. A quick glance at his profile reveals that there are indeed two Rx's, one written for 1 tube and the other for 2. I tell him that the Rx for 2 tubes is out of refills, and that I will send an electronic fax to his prescriber to get it refilled. I told him it would be beneficial for him to call the doctor's office the next morning to get the refill authorized, and to call the pharmacy before he shows up to make sure everything was done. He of course shows up having done nothing (after what undoubtedly was a night of binge drinking and complete, debilitating debauchery), and it is suddenly my fault that the doctor did not authorize the refills. He goes into to this long-winded, tiring tirade of essentially nothingness, and tells me he is going to transfer all his Rx's to another pharmacy. Boo-freaking-hoo. I can hardly stop back the giant, crocodile tears that are welling up as I recall this incident. I defer to the title of perhaps the best Green Day song, Good Riddance.
That will teach me to try to be nice! Every time I try to do something selfless for someone, it goes up in flames like Michael Jackson's hair in that Pepsi Concert, or - I guess, his career in general. A certain pharmacist friend of mine had a similar experience, but the unnamed yet clearly bearded person did not give me permission to recount the tale of the wayward idiot, so I suppose it will remain an in-joke. That's it for now, so until I feel like dutifully documenting another pharmacy play-by-play (I don't know what all the alliteration is about), I guess you all will - I don't know - painfully long for the next one...
Case in point, two days ago I inform a customer that his Rx is only for one tube of cream. He angrily tells me that it is supposed to be two. A quick glance at his profile reveals that there are indeed two Rx's, one written for 1 tube and the other for 2. I tell him that the Rx for 2 tubes is out of refills, and that I will send an electronic fax to his prescriber to get it refilled. I told him it would be beneficial for him to call the doctor's office the next morning to get the refill authorized, and to call the pharmacy before he shows up to make sure everything was done. He of course shows up having done nothing (after what undoubtedly was a night of binge drinking and complete, debilitating debauchery), and it is suddenly my fault that the doctor did not authorize the refills. He goes into to this long-winded, tiring tirade of essentially nothingness, and tells me he is going to transfer all his Rx's to another pharmacy. Boo-freaking-hoo. I can hardly stop back the giant, crocodile tears that are welling up as I recall this incident. I defer to the title of perhaps the best Green Day song, Good Riddance.
That will teach me to try to be nice! Every time I try to do something selfless for someone, it goes up in flames like Michael Jackson's hair in that Pepsi Concert, or - I guess, his career in general. A certain pharmacist friend of mine had a similar experience, but the unnamed yet clearly bearded person did not give me permission to recount the tale of the wayward idiot, so I suppose it will remain an in-joke. That's it for now, so until I feel like dutifully documenting another pharmacy play-by-play (I don't know what all the alliteration is about), I guess you all will - I don't know - painfully long for the next one...
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Plan B for Everyone! (originally posted 4/23/09)
Great news regarding Plan B! And by great news, I, of course, mean horrible news. A federal judge has ordered that the restriction by the Bush Administration of the access of sale of the OTC drug to minors (those under the age of 18) be immediately lifted. The judge ordered the FDA to allow 17-year-old "women" to purchase the birth control/zygote-killer without a prescription. They are also looking into opening the availability of the drug to all ages. In essence, the federal government has said its powers supersede those of parents of minors; the same parents who would be ever-so-rapidly sentenced to heavy fines and prolonged incarceration for negligence of safety by the same government, and yet are legally unable to protect their young (though sexually deviant as they may be for not using protection in this day and age) daughters from several safety risks that the pills present.
Quickly coming is a day where a 10-year-old approaches the counter, tells me to give them the I-don't-have-to-worry-about-my-consequences-and-so-choose-to-be-completely-cavalier-about-my-sexual-activeness-because-the-federal-government-rationalizes-that-this-is-better-than-an-abortion-although-this-can-in-some-ways-be-equal-to-an-abortion-and-there-is-nothing-you-or-my-parents-can-do-about-it-so-bite-me pills, slap a $50 down, says I can keep the change and the receipt, and walks away. Hopefully, they can do all of this before missing an episode of That's So Raven.
There exists an appropriate idiom in American culture for this occurrence, "our children are our future". Well, thanks to Teva, the feds, and the FDA - they might never have to have children of their own.
Peace!
Quickly coming is a day where a 10-year-old approaches the counter, tells me to give them the I-don't-have-to-worry-about-my-consequences-and-so-choose-to-be-completely-cavalier-about-my-sexual-activeness-because-the-federal-government-rationalizes-that-this-is-better-than-an-abortion-although-this-can-in-some-ways-be-equal-to-an-abortion-and-there-is-nothing-you-or-my-parents-can-do-about-it-so-bite-me pills, slap a $50 down, says I can keep the change and the receipt, and walks away. Hopefully, they can do all of this before missing an episode of That's So Raven.
There exists an appropriate idiom in American culture for this occurrence, "our children are our future". Well, thanks to Teva, the feds, and the FDA - they might never have to have children of their own.
Peace!
Monday, November 9, 2009
The Beginning
Certain things have really stood out in my time working behind the obviously non-sterile counters of one of the local retail pharmacies (it rhymes with CVS...oops!). This is not to say that there has been anything that has failed to levy its own unique impact on how I view this ridiculous world of ours. There have been moments and events that have touched a wide array of emotional/psychological categories. I have experienced episodes that have evoked amusement, indifference, anger, confusion, annoyance, hatred, anxiety, boredom, and, on the somewhat rare instance, the utter desire to burn the whole thing down to the ground, force out a maniacal bevy of laughter, and extinguish the smoldering embers of my pharmaceutical hell with my sweet, sweet tears of joy...but I digress. I have selected some of my personal experiences and anecdotes for this very publication. For those of you who truly know me, you will realize that I post this mainly for myself because I do not really care if anybody else is interested...anywho, enjoy!
Hydrocododone:
I realize this is not an actual drug (I am a nationally certified and registered pharmacy tech). This all stems from a guy who would go through Vicodin like Skittles, and would force you to converse with him for a minimum of thirty minutes if there was a problem with him getting his favorite pain-reliever/liver-killer. He insisted on calling it hydrocododone! The guy has since died, but his legacy lives on in our world. Ne'er a day passes by without the mention of hydrocododone, and I fully believe the levity and amusement it brings allows us to partially hold on to what remains are rapidly-dissolving sanity.
What are those for?:
Besides irking me with their insistence upon ending sentences with a preposition, this question still catches me offguard. How many meds does one have to be on before they completely lose the ability to recall what they are taking? A good example would be the other day when a woman was picking up two scripts. She asked what she was getting. I tell her nitrofurantoin and phenazopyridine. She then asks "the question". Jeez! I politely explain to her the nitrofurantoin is the generic for Macrobid, an antibiotic used almost exclusively to fight cystitis (or what is commonly referred to as a urinary tract infection), and phenazopyridine is the generic for Azo, a urinary analgesic which limits inflammation in the urinary tract when combined with urine. She says, "Okay", as if it suddenly donned on her that she had an excruciatingly severe burning sensation every time she peed.
Co-pays:
No, we do not set the co-pays on your prescriptions. I am not artificially inflating the price of your meds for some sort of administration or service-rendered fee. I do not care how much you pay; in fact I would be ecstatic if everyone's scripts were $0 co-pay, that way I wouldn't get yelled at because they haven't met their deductible, or even more likely, their insurance sucks. Insurance companies do not make money by paying claims only from receiving your monthly payments. It should not surprise anyone that if they can find any way to weasel their way out of paying - they will. Contact your benefits department, and don't make me spend an hour on hold, and another thirty minutes talking to your insurance people to find out that the information is privileged and cannot be divulged to third-parties. I understand the economy is awful and the "stimulus package" gives you a meager $8 more a paycheck, but instead of blaming a person that has nothing to do with the percentage of the drug price your policy requires you to pay, maybe you should be glad you actually can afford medical and prescription coverage! If something were to happen to the other third of Americans without coverage we would be screwed.
Plan-B/Cialis/Levitra/Viagra/Birth-control:
Plan-B, known every-so-adoringly as "the morning after pill" consistently sells out in our pharmacy. This is utterly disturbing. There are so many people, in our supposedly advanced and informed society, having unprotected sex in and around the Katy area, that we cannot meet the demand of zygote-killing-drugs. And if another retarded, gothic teen asks me how to use it, I am simply going to call their parents and them give them a detailed dispensing schedule for the little apples of their eyes (take by mouth within 72 hours of intercourse 12 hours apart - it comes with 2 pills and a lifelong sense of despair and hopelessness, all for $47.96!). We also run out of birth control a lot; at least those people are not adding to gene pools. And don’t get me started on dudes and their...uppers...viva Viagra!
More to come later! I know you guys are so very excited.
Hydrocododone:
I realize this is not an actual drug (I am a nationally certified and registered pharmacy tech). This all stems from a guy who would go through Vicodin like Skittles, and would force you to converse with him for a minimum of thirty minutes if there was a problem with him getting his favorite pain-reliever/liver-killer. He insisted on calling it hydrocododone! The guy has since died, but his legacy lives on in our world. Ne'er a day passes by without the mention of hydrocododone, and I fully believe the levity and amusement it brings allows us to partially hold on to what remains are rapidly-dissolving sanity.
What are those for?:
Besides irking me with their insistence upon ending sentences with a preposition, this question still catches me offguard. How many meds does one have to be on before they completely lose the ability to recall what they are taking? A good example would be the other day when a woman was picking up two scripts. She asked what she was getting. I tell her nitrofurantoin and phenazopyridine. She then asks "the question". Jeez! I politely explain to her the nitrofurantoin is the generic for Macrobid, an antibiotic used almost exclusively to fight cystitis (or what is commonly referred to as a urinary tract infection), and phenazopyridine is the generic for Azo, a urinary analgesic which limits inflammation in the urinary tract when combined with urine. She says, "Okay", as if it suddenly donned on her that she had an excruciatingly severe burning sensation every time she peed.
Co-pays:
No, we do not set the co-pays on your prescriptions. I am not artificially inflating the price of your meds for some sort of administration or service-rendered fee. I do not care how much you pay; in fact I would be ecstatic if everyone's scripts were $0 co-pay, that way I wouldn't get yelled at because they haven't met their deductible, or even more likely, their insurance sucks. Insurance companies do not make money by paying claims only from receiving your monthly payments. It should not surprise anyone that if they can find any way to weasel their way out of paying - they will. Contact your benefits department, and don't make me spend an hour on hold, and another thirty minutes talking to your insurance people to find out that the information is privileged and cannot be divulged to third-parties. I understand the economy is awful and the "stimulus package" gives you a meager $8 more a paycheck, but instead of blaming a person that has nothing to do with the percentage of the drug price your policy requires you to pay, maybe you should be glad you actually can afford medical and prescription coverage! If something were to happen to the other third of Americans without coverage we would be screwed.
Plan-B/Cialis/Levitra/Viagra/Birth-control:
Plan-B, known every-so-adoringly as "the morning after pill" consistently sells out in our pharmacy. This is utterly disturbing. There are so many people, in our supposedly advanced and informed society, having unprotected sex in and around the Katy area, that we cannot meet the demand of zygote-killing-drugs. And if another retarded, gothic teen asks me how to use it, I am simply going to call their parents and them give them a detailed dispensing schedule for the little apples of their eyes (take by mouth within 72 hours of intercourse 12 hours apart - it comes with 2 pills and a lifelong sense of despair and hopelessness, all for $47.96!). We also run out of birth control a lot; at least those people are not adding to gene pools. And don’t get me started on dudes and their...uppers...viva Viagra!
More to come later! I know you guys are so very excited.
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