Myspace Sucks

Ever been to Myspace? I have. Ever wanted to amputate your toes with a dirty cleaver? You will after creating an account and spending ten minutes on the most vapid wasteland on the internet, www.Myspace.com.

I've been on Myspace for about six months or so. That's long enough to drop enough points off my functional IQ to equate to borderline mental retardation. I'm serious.

Myspace is the perfect reason why not everyone should have the ability to create a web page. Third party HTML builders will allow you customize your account to be so annoying that it's nearly offensive. Add enough star bursts and fading pictures and it starts to bear a remarkable resemblance to colorful vomit splashing around in your toilet bowl. Add whatever shitty song happens to be playing on their profile at the moment and you've got the equivalent of a web page design abortion. Thanks Tom.

I know what you're thinking. Whatev, a-hole! Ive met all my fav pEEps on myspace, LOL!!11! Really? The majority of the people I get friend requests from are webcam chicks, burgeoning porn stars and people I haven't talked to in 8 years from high school. Sweet.

Here's the dialogue box I got last time I tried to send a friend a message:

Sorry! an unexpected error has occurred.

This error has been forwarded to MySpace's technical group.

What technical group is that? A room full of monkeys throwing feces? It must be, because every time I go to Myspace it seems to get less functional and increasingly cumbersome.

If you're not on Myspace yet, beat them to the punch and throw your computer out the window. Or, you could become a spiteful and angry blogger. That's a productive use of time. Either way...

Missouri merely dislikes me

After a long and treacherous process of written examinations, oral debates and body cavity searches, the fine state of Missouri has seen fit to make me a licensed pharmacist. Neat-o. While much of my writing on this site ranges from sarcasm to outright fallacy, I can say with utter sincerity that I feel this is a great accomplishment as well as an important milestone in my life. I've put a lot of work into this, and getting this news makes me both relieved and happy.

Corpopharm, my employer, was elated to hear the good news as well. I informed my higher-ups yesterday that I had passed my boards and was licensed. My boss told me that she would like to have me start Tuesday, and that I could take today (Monday) off. Terrific!

Well, as we all know all play and no work makes Jack a dull boy. The area scheduler for Corpopharm knows this as well and called me at 7 AM today.

Scheduler: Hi Jack! Congratulations on passing your boards and getting licensed!
Jack: (rubbing sleep from eyes, scratching self) Wha? Whoizthis?
Scheduler: Say, we could really use some help today as one of our pharmacists at Store X went into labor today. She's having a baby! Isn't that great? So, could you help us out and pick up her shift at 2 PM at Store X?
Jack: Baby who?
Scheduler: Great! Thanks!

OK, so that's not exactly how the conversation went, but let's just say I felt a little like I was getting ambushed. I'd been licensed for approximately 24 hours and was already being asked to cover for sick shifts. Welcome to the working world.

On the bright side, my first day as a pharmacist went pretty smoothly. I only got insulted once or twice, and nobody told me I looked too young to be in charge. I figure that's a victory.

Your Doctor Is Smarter Than You

I know it's hard for you to believe, but 9 times out of 10, it's true. This is why you do not argue with me over what your doctor chose to write on your prescription. I had this conversation with some philistine at my pharmacy today.

Philistine (smiling broadly): Hi. I noticed after getting my prescription earlier that you didn't fill it right. Or my doctor didn't write it right.
Me: Let me check the hard copy.

Her smiled brightened, and I was filled with such hope that I wanted to vote Independent.

Me (viewing the hard copy and viewing her script we filled): This looks fine. What's the problem?
Philistine (a little huffy): My doctor always writes for a 3 month supply with 3 refills. You only gave me a one month supply with 3 refills.
Me (showing Philistine the hard copy): Your doctor wrote for a 1 month supply with 3 refills. See?
Philistine: No, my doctor meant to give me a years supply. See this bottle? (Philistine shows me an old prescription bottle) That's the way she usually does it.

Philistine is smiling even more brightly now, having just shown me the error of my ways.

Me: I see that. However, that is an old prescription bottle that is unrelated to this new prescription.
Philistine: (blank stare)

There is a moral to this story, and it's got a little something to do with the title of this tirade. I could have told the lady without even checking the hard copy that her prescription had been filled correctly, end of story. However, I took the time to produce the actual script her doctor had written and put it side by side with the medication we had filled for her. I'm a bright-eyed optimist that assumes cold hard facts will help people to understand their prescriptions more thoroughly. It's people like this woman that make me wonder whether they're so dumb that they don't understand 1+1 or that they're trying to make me think that they're so dumb that I just give up trying to explain things to them and do what they want. Either way, I'm awful thirsty by the time I get home every day.

Missouri hates me

Imagine that you've completed a professional program that you've invested seven (7) years of your life in. That's approximately ten percent of the average American's lifespan. Not exactly chicken dirt. To become qualified to perform duties of said profession, you must pass an exam created by a regulatory commission that was created to govern said profession. These people do not practice pharmacy.

Question #1: Patient A shows up with a script for BrandName that hasn't been used for 50 years. What do you do?
A. Fill the script as written
B. Choose option B that sounds plausible yet somehow still terribly wrong
C. Take the break that you don't get
D. What the shit...

Yes, I realized this question was flawed myself. Even without all my fancy schooling, one would realize that this is clearly besides the point. You see, when working in the happy little pill room, you may check on details such as brand name/generic name whenever you happen to not know which is which. It doesn't mean you're a bad pharmacist, it just means you haven't memorized that particular nugget of truth yet. Happens to the best of us. However, when taking a board exam, you may not walk back to the shelf and see what the brand name is for the drug that the 3000 year old MD wrote for that nobody uses anymore. You should have memorized it, just like the other 2,000 drugs you have on your shelf. Oh, and also various interactions, contraindications, monitoring parameters, dosage forms, dosages, schedules, generic substitutions and , yada yada yada.

That's the reason you went to graduate school. Memorizing useless facts is really what you should be doing with your higher education. Shit, that's much easier to test people on. Concepts are for suckers.

And behold, for there stood walls as an affront to God Himself...

Well, I don't know if they're an affront to God, but there are definitely some walls on my house now. Construction is still behind schedule, but it was also originally set to be completed far before our expected closing date. I almost parked my car in my 'garage', but one of the workers was looking at me a bit too intently with a nail gun. Guess I'll have to wait.

OOF: Ask For Help With Your Sunscreen

This weekend I was introduced to the aquatic wonder that is Oceans of Fun. Both days. Regardless of age, hangover, and little to no acclimation to the sun's harmful rays I was present at this fabulous oasis on both Saturday and Sunday. I loved every slippery second of it.

Coincidentally, it was Dontworryboutit's birthday this weekend. Had he not played the "It's my birthday, so we're doing whatever I want" card on Saturday morning, I probably would have been my usual stick-in-the-mud self and stayed in bed until I felt lively enough to play some video games. Instead, I got my season pass online and discovered what's sure to be my default daytime plan for the rest of the summer's weekends. Unfamiliar to the OOF wonderness? Don't worry, because I'm a pro now:

1. Get the season pass. It's $80 and the daily rate is $30. Go 3 times and you've justified your investment (and that's just what it is).
2. Bring your own booze. Nobody checks your bags, and you can get glasses of ice at many convenient locations throughout the park. Nothing makes me feel like a man like smuggling 'shine.
3. Get there before 1 PM. I know, it's a large price to pay to drag your dreary bones out of bed, but it's worth it when you get that money spot at the adult pool for you and your friends. Which brings me to:
4. The adult pool! No rug rats running around screaming, basketball in the pool, and a sand volleyball court. Also, beers and boat drinks if you're not cagey enough to bring your own. Oh, and a bar called 'Belly Up' where you actually sit in the water of the pool itself when you're at the bar. For some reason, those people never seem to have to use the bathroom...
5. Lot's of water slides. I don't believe any elaboration is required here. Water slides are inherently awesome.

Needless to say, I had a great time both days and plan on making OOF my country club until I get pretentious enough to demand something better. I expect you all to come visit me sometime this summer so you can experience the greatness for yourselves.

The Diabetic and the Detractor: Friend and Foe

I was in the pharmacy today doing my usual thing (this entails avoiding eye contact, avoiding the drive through, avoiding the phone). A nondescript woman approached the counter and started asking me about cough medication. Easy enough. I exit the pharmacy to the 'floor' (that's what we call the rest of the store outside of our quaint little pill counting area) and grab a combo cold product off the shelf and begin explaining how it will make her feel 1000% better.

Usually, this is where the interaction ends. Not today.

This woman had multiple other issues that she wanted me to know about. She had diabetes (which she claimed she was being treated for), a problem with one of her big toenails which I was able to evaluate along with everyone else in the pharmacy (objectively) as she took off her shoes and socks, and aches in her legs. It took me about 20 seconds to type that sentance. Today, it took about 20 minutes for me to elicit these facts from my 'patient', as she spoke very broken English. My best guess is that she just came here from somewhere in Northern Africa, and rather recently.

After our lengthy discussion, I was able interpret her hypothesis:

1. She believes her toe problems to be of a fungal origin. She had gotten a powder for it before from somewhere in her homeland, which yielded little result.
2. She believes her legs hurt because she works at the Price Chopper (a grocery store) down the street, which she walks to every day. A mile or so (each way). Who knows what they're paying her.

Now, for those of you in the health care biz, you're probably thinking the same thing I did. Her diabetes is under poor (null) control and she's got a foot ulcer and diabetic nephropathy, explaining her foot sore as well as the pain in her legs. I start explaining that she needs to see a doctor to rule this out, as I am not a diagnostician. No dice. She states that she doesn't have the money to go to the MD, and insists that I find her remedies for her conditions here in the pharmacy. Now.

Our entire dialogue lasted around 20 minutes. This is at least as long as she would have gotten out of an MD. Maybe longer. I decided to recommend the best OTC options for her ailments (an antifungal for the suspected tinea, ibuprofen for her limb soreness). I got her all Corpopharm products and scanned my employee card (saving her about 30%) which according to Corpopharm rules would get me canned.

A short time later some lady argued with me about her copay for 5 minutes at the drive through. She then sat in DT for another 10 minutes to count all her pills in the car to make sure we hadn't screwed up her scripts. After that she started honking her horn to get our attention to grab her something else from the 'floor'.

This is retail pharmacy.