Spiffy Gets Demoted, Escapes The Jungle

It all started last March, on a fine Monday morning of apothecary wonderment. I was on the phone with TheBoss, who had called regarding some issue I probably didn't give a shit about. She concluded her business and I said something that I did not realize was going to issue from my orifice until it escaped. I told her that I wanted out of my current position and requested a transfer work over-nights at the Corpopharm close to my house. I explained that my lifespan at Corpopharm would not last much longer if my request was not met. I hadn't planned on giving her an ultimatum that day, but there it was.

The last six or so months have been a waiting game. Negotiations, compromises, and enough bureaucracy to make your grandmother want to punch babies. My company is large, and the corporate structure is motivated by many factors. My happiness is not chief among them, so it doesn't surprise me that my request was not fulfilled in a golden instant. I'm sure it would have happened more quickly had I threatened to walk. I'm not a dick like that. Even though I work for an evil machine, that machine is responsible for welfare of real people (like your grandmother).

Two weeks ago, TheBoss called and informed me that my transfer was finally a reality. I started working the night shift at my new pharmacy last week, and I feel the sanity creeping back in already.

There's a multitude of reasons why this was necessary. Anyone who reads about my experiences at work has a glimpse into my head. The responses I've gotten from people who read this site tend to be a bit off the mark. I do not hate my job. I enjoy pharmacy. I truly believe I have one of the best jobs available in the United States today. I feel very fortunate to be in the position I am and wouldn't choose many jobs over the one I currently have (video game tester and beer sampler aside). The problem is not my line of work but the segment of the population that it puts me in direct contact with on a daily basis.

I don't understand people. It's difficult for me to articulate just how each and every interaction with patients at the pharmacy affects me, but the result is rarely positive. I'm offended much more easily than most people by the boorish and casual manner of the standard pharmacy patron. Certainly not by things that most people would consider offensive. I can't reconcile the expectations of the American public with my responsibilities as a health care professional. I cannot alter the perception of the masses. I can't make your coupon work for the toilet paper and explain the proper method for your bowel prep kit in the same sentence. I don't want to bill your script to medicaid and see you drive away in an Escalade. It's not within me.

The other elephant in the rooms was being Pharmacist In Charge. PIC is a legally necessary position for any pharmacy. In a nutshell, the PIC is responsible for the pharmacy obeying regulations set forth by the board of pharmacy by that state. Combine this with the fact that I had precious little faith in my partner and the result was a lot stress and anxiety. I realized one day that if I had a family member that needed medication, I would not want them to go to my pharmacy while my partner was on duty. This is a reality at many pharmacies, sad as that is. I decided I didn't want to accept responsibility any longer for things that were beyond my control. I'll never be PIC again, unless I own the joint.

I just got done with my shift. It's 7:30 AM, and I'm having a beer and watching the sun rise over the park. I spent my last 2 hours at work reading Stephen King's Bachman Books. I'll go to bed in an hour or so.

Next time you get out of the ER at 3 AM and head to the 24 Corpopharm to get your scripts filled, it may that weird pharmacist with the tattoos. Don't worry, you're not fucked. I'll take good care of you.

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Also, credit of Dr. Russell and The Onion, here's a little pharmacy funny in case you haven't read it already. I broke my balls laughing.

http://www.theonion.com/content/node/38511