Hot Pharmacy Phone Action

Case 1:

The phone rings.  The gentleman on the other end explains that he just picked up his prescription for zol-pi-dem  (generic for Ambien).

Gentleman: This pill looks different from the last time I got it.  Did I get the right medication?

Me: Yes, we just changed what brand we carry.  Generic medications are available from lots of manufacterers, and Corpopharm changes which ones they carry from time to time.  That's what the new one looks like.  

Gentleman: Oh.  Well, the new one looks an awful lot like the atenolol I already take.  Can you get the old one back in stock?

Me: We try to only carry one manufacterer of a medication at a time. It reduces medication errors, confusion, and inventory issues.

Gentleman:  Well, how am I supposed to tell these two pills apart?!?

He sounded a bit indignant.  And ignorant, now that I think about it.  Anyone who's gotten a script filled before knows that when you get a medicication, you get it in a bottle with a typewritten label on it.  This label has lots of helpful information, up to and including the name of the drug that's in the bottle.

Me: Are you having a hard time reading the label on the bottle?

Guy: No.

I let that sink in for a few seconds.

Me: So what's the problem?

Guy: Well, they just look so similar that I can't tell them apart.

Me: You can't tell them apart after you take them out of the bottle?

Guy: Right!

Me: (pause) What about before you take them out of the bottle?

Guy: (pause) I can read.

Me: Then perhaps you should do so.

Case 2:

Next phone call.  The very next one.

Do you ever get on the phone with an unfamiliar person and just know that the conversation is going to go nowhere?

Guy: Hey umm I uh need this medication (mumble mumble incoherent mumble trailing off into nothing).

Me: I need you to speak up.  I'm having a very difficult time understanding you.

Guy: Yeah um uhhhhh Risperdal uh uhhhhhhhh...

Me: Sir, what's your name?

Guy: James Jakj;a$%!@...

Me: (searching computer) I can't find you in the computer.  Do you get your medication at this pharmacy?  We're the Corpopharm at (location).

Guy: I get my medication at the pharmacy, the pharmacy, ahhh....

Me: (sigh) Touché.

We repeated the above conversation a few times before I asked him to find his prescription bottle.  All the medications he was asking me about were antipsychotics.  He either hadn't been taking them, or was very drunk. Or high.  Or, some happy-go-lucky combination of the three.  I didn't want to deny him the opportunity mental health just because he was having some communication problems.  The mentally ill are one of the very few populations that I am exceedingly patient with.  As long as they don't piss me off.

After sitting on hold for five minutes (literally) he got back on the phone and stated that he's found a 'subscription bottle'.  I told him where the Rx number was located and told him to read it to me.  He read me a 4 digit number, not the amount of digits in a Corpopharm Rx number.  

At this point, we'd been on the phone for about ten minutes.  I can be patient, but most Corpopharm patients are not.  While he had me on hold looking for the bottle, I heard some muffled conversation.  Although I was glad this guy was trying to help himself, I didn't have all night for him to do it. I decided that it may be a good idea to try and get some information from who he'd been talking to.

Me: Sir, I is there anyone else there I can speak to?  I want to help you, but I just can't understand what you need.

Guy: My girl is here she's sleepin'...

Me: Put her on the phone.  It won't take long, I promise.

I hear him waking up his girl and soon enough a groggy female voice comes on the line.

Me: Do you know this man?

Girl: Yeah watchoo want?

Me: I think he needs some medication, but I can't understand him.  Do you know where he gets his prescriptions?

Girl: He goes to Corpopharm 2.

Corpopharm 2... not my pharmacy chain.  This little revelation came 12 minutes into the call.

Me: OK, this is Corpopharm 1.  Do you see his pill bottles there?

Girl: Yeah.

Me: OK, the number to his pharmacy is on the bottle.  He needs to call them if he needs more medication.  Can

you help him?

Girl: It's the middle of the damn night, and I'm tired.

Now that pissed me off.  Her boyfriend had tried for 10 minutes to get his refill himself, and this chick wasn't willing to call some numbers into another pharmacy that would take all of 10 seconds.  I don't know why I cared.  I guess I've got a soft spot for crazy people.  Whatever the reason, I decided the only way that my new crazy friend was going to get un-crazy was if his lazy girlfriend got off her ass.  It was time to pass the buck.

Me: I know, but your boyfriend is sick.  If he doesn't get his medication, he's going to be very sick.  He just had me on the phone for ten minutes and couldn't even give me his name.  He really needs his medication to be able to take care of himself.  Otherwise, you're going to have to take care of him like this all the time.  I don't know how long it's been since he took his last dose, but he's not well.  

Girl: Fine, I call'em.

Happy Holidays! From The Degenerates At Chateaus Bitchin'

Happy holidays to you and yours!  I hope the season finds you well, and that the past year has been a fruitful one.  It has certainly been a prosperous one here at Chateaus Bitchin'.  Here's a quick update on how all the housemates are doing.

Risk: Works all the time, even when at home.  His wine consumption rivals the local vineyard's tasting facilities, and 3 days ago he threw up on himself on his flight home from visiting the family.  Dignified!

Applephiliac: Still sleeps all the time, regardless of location.  Hates work and, well, life in general.  Still cruising the the black SS with the navigation, making the homeys say ho and the girlies wanna scream.

Don'tWorryAboutIt: Still drunk most of the time, working or not.  May or may not be wearing pants.  Still favoring inappropriately young women and old men.  'Works' from home every other week from the sectional, waking up whenever his work terminal beeps loud enough.

Spiffy: Working over night now, able to avoid most pharmacy patrons (score!).  Interests include video games, Templeton Rye and Three Sheets reruns.

Above photographed is Bruce.  He resides on the lawn beside the main entrance of the Chateaus.  Originally purchased as a Halloween decoration, he is clearly a festive Christmas decoration with the addition of the traditional St. Nicholas head dress.  Not only does he instill holiday spirit, he is also a clear symbol to Mormons and solicitors alike to 'stay the fuck away from this house'.

For anyone without New Years Eve plans, please proceed to the Chateaus where the beer will be flowing like wine.  We will all be kicking the old year in the ass like a rented mule.  Cheers!

Maddening Medicaid Massacre

There are a few universal truths in the pharmacy world.  Some apply to patients.  There is one that applies to pharmacy staff: we hate medicaid people.

Now, I know what you're thinking.  Why just pharmacy staff?  Why can't I hate medicaid people?  Good news, my friend.  You can!  After reading this, you will.  Well, you should.

Medicaid is a federally funded program that provides health care for people who cannot afford it by their own means.  If you make under X dollars annually (this differs per state) your entire medical bill will be paid for by Uncle Sam.  You all know where Uncle Sam gets his dough.

Sounds great, right?  If people can't afford health care, they should get some help from the government.  Right?  Many Americans believe that health care is a right.  Once you get a little exposure working within our health care system, you may start to think differently.  Come work in a pharmacy for a week.  I don't know many pharmacy people who feel that health care is a right.  You start to feel differently when you see the way people are spending your money, the way they are abusing the privilege of health care.

A perfect example of this abuse occurred last night in my pharmacy.  A night time regular came back to the pharmacy at about 1:45.  He had a friend with him that I'd never seen before.  Each of them had 4 prescriptions from the local emergency room.  All the scripts were for medication to treat breathing problems.

Ready for the kick in the nuts?  I am, because I get it every day I go to work.  My nuts are like hard, unfeeling wood by now.  Even if you don't think about things like this, you pay for it with every tax deduction from your precious little paycheck.

Both of these guys reeked like smoke.  The regular guy does every time he comes in.  I imagine him rolling around in a big fucking ashtray before he comes to the pharmacy.  You've smelled someone like that before.  Don't you wonder how they could possibly smell that bad?  I guess they smoke A LOT.  This is your first clue that he has medicaid.  They are usually a little stinky.

Here's a list of the medications he gets, every single month, to treat his breathing problems:

1. Mucinex: $31.49

2. Fluticasone: $68

3. Albuterol nebs: $17.59

4. Advair: $302

5. Combivent: $125

Total Cost: $544.08

So we're all clear, you're paying for that.  You and the rest of America that works, that is.  Medicaid patients usually have a copay ranging from 1$-3$, which as you can see compared to the overall medication cost is exactly jack shit.  Now, to smell as bad as this asshole does, he's probably smoking around 2 packs every day.  Let's say $3 per pack, so $180 per month.  He's paying $180 a month to kill himself, and you're paying $544 a month to keep him alive.  How do your nuts feel?  

Did I mention he visits the ER at least once a month for whatever reason?  I can tell you it's not emergent, because whenever he's in the pharmacy he's just hunky-fucking-dory.  Do you know why medicaid patients go to the ER so much?  Here's an idea.

1.  They've got shit-one to do.  They don't have jobs.  The bingo parlor is closed after hours.

2.  There's no difference in cost to them between an ER visit and a general practitioner visit, although the bill to us is 5-10 times higher for the ER.  I guess at the ER they don't have to make an appointment to fit their busy schedule.  That's convenient.

This is the problem with medicaid.  Anybody who's poor can get it.  You can stop down the pill room to get your $100/month cholesterol medication, then waddle to MacDonald's to see how many Big Macs you can squeeze in before Oprah.  Medicaid patients can shit out as many kids as they want, they'll be covered too.  Think there are any coverage restrictions based on how you've got the condition you need treated?  Think about the guy I started this post off with.

Think about this, America.  Better yet, impart the damage on yourself physically.  Every time you pay for a medicaid patients medication, it's a moral kick in the junk.  Why not make it a literal kick in the junk?  Next time you see a medicaid patient huffing on their ProAir or selling their Vicodin to your teenage child (score!), run up to the nearest person and have them kick you in the gonads.  It's already happening anyway.

Tom Cruise Needs Your Love

I haven't heard anyone else talking about this, but Jesus, it sure does seem like Tom Cruise is trying to pry his crazy little way back into the hearts of the American public.  Lord knows why.  Probably money.  A raging cocaine habit can be expensive, folks.

Over the last few days, I've been seeing trailers on TV for Scientology's (yeah, I'll dignify it with capitalization) best spokesman's newest film, Valkyrie.  I don't much care for the idiot box myself, but it's in front of me when I'm on the treadmill at the gym, so I watch.  Pretty moving colors are hard to look away from.

As you all know, Tom is one of the most well known American actors of our era.  As you also well know, over the last few years he's been starting to look crazier than a rat in a tin shit house.  A few fabulous examples come to mind.

1.  Tom goes on Oprah (Satan).  Tom assaults Oprah while jumping on her furniture.

2.  Tom calls Matt Lauer "glib" during an interview in 2005 where the two debate the relative merits of psychiatry and psychiatric pharmacotherapy.  Cruise states, "You don't know the history of psychiatry.  I do."

3.  Tom has an interview with David Letterman.  He cannot stop laughing at his own story.

Did I mention Tom Cruise is a scientologist?  If you're not already aware of how crazy those freaks are, please read the wiki on it.  

With all this bad press flying around about you, it must be awfully difficult to get a job.  No way, you're thinking.  People would go see a Tom Cruise movie even if all he was doing was mowing his lawn.  Wrong.  You've got to remember that the movie biz is a fickle one, and Mom isn't going to take her kids to the movie starring the crazy ass actor who just murdalized Oprah.  

So, Tom decides he needs a turnaround.  A new beginning.  A resurrection, so to speak.

From what I can derive from the trailer, the basic premise of Valkyrie is this:

Tom Cruise kills Hitler.

That's it.  But Jesus, how much more self righteous can this asshole get?  He might as just sit down in front of a camera and say:

America, I'm sorry.  I know I've been acting like a crazy asshole for the last few years.  Listen, you don't know what it's like to be a wealthy celebrity.  After so many years, parties with endless mountains of cocaine and strippers just isn't enough any more.  Moreover, limitless cash and public adoration start to seem bland after you've conned thousands of people into false religion and stolen them from their family and friends.  Trust me, I've done it.

Listen, I'm here to say that I now realize what I've done.  I was temporarily blinded by my status, and I realize that I owe you something in return.  So, here it is: I'm going to kill Hitler.  That's right, that big bad boogey man from WWII.  On December 25, I'm going to kill Hitler on the big screen in front of millions of Americans.  This will simultaneously reverse the Holocaust and be the best birthday present that Jesus ever received.  Do you love me again?

You've got to give it to him, it's pretty crafty.  What better way to curry favor with America than to kill the least popular villain in current history as a birthday present to Jesus?

Chateaus Bitchin' Chicanery

New study data was made available today following a press release at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology campus in Cambridge.  Over the last year, MIT professors from various departments have collaborated with faculty members of UMKC in Kansas City, Missouri.  The aim of the study was to determine the ideal amount of time a dish, glass, or eating utensil must sit in the sink of a local home, Chateaus Bitchin', before it could be transfered to the automatic dishwasher for proper cleaning.  

"Based on empirical data gathered over the first few months of study," stated prominent MIT mathematician Dr. Ken Hoffman,"we just assumed that the dirty glass had to sit in the sink at least a day or two before being transfered to the dishwasher.  We didn't understand why this was necessary at the time, we just assumed the study subjects knew something we didn't."

Researchers noted that a dirty glass would often be left in the sink, on the counter, or on a nearby table by one roommate, only to be transfered to the dishwasher days later by another roommate entirely.  The dish may sit out hours, 1 day, or even a week.  Sometimes large quantities would be left unattended, sometimes only a solitary glass..  

"These findings left us stymied." stated Dr. Wai-Yim Ching, professor of physics at UMKC.  "There seemed to be simply no correlation between the amount of dishes left out or how long they were left out.  At that time, we formulated a few hypothesis, isolated a few variables, and set up a few parallel studies.  We wanted answers."

The data released today shocked the scientific community, and has many leading minds in the field calling for answers.

Dr. Hoffman reported.  "It turns out there was no reason to leave the dishes sitting around before putting them in the washer.  This was not a necessary step in the cleaning process."  Amid jeers and frantic shouting from the press, Hoffman concluded, "It turns out some of the roommates at Chateaus Bitchin' are simply, well, fucking lazy."

After trying to reach members of Chateaus Bitchin' for comment, members of the press were only able extract partial answers from a cleaning crew that enters the domicile twice weekly.  "Peligroso!!!" cried one member of the cleaning crew.  "No entrar!  Que horror!!"

Outside Material Day!

I haven't watched SNL for some time now, but I may need to start carving out some time for it.

Ample Ambiguous Ambitions

This is proof that, when confronted with enough time, even someone as valuable as a health care professional will waste said time in fruitless pursuits.

Well, fruitless save for my personal enjoyment.  How many pharmacists do you know that could make a stack of vials that high?   Most of them are just too damn short.  The rest of them wouldn't appreciate a feat like this one in and of itself enough to actually attempt it.  I may need to create a new type of award for myself to recognize an achievement of this kind.  Or maybe I'll just reallocate some funds from the company till.  Either way.

In summary, I work for a company that will pay me do things like this for hours every night.  The same company will cut 10 technician hours some weeks to 'meet budget forecasts'.  The technicians make roughly 15% of what pharmacists do.  Those technician hours can make or break the busy times of day.  Those hours will get the 'patients' out the door faster and prevent the rest of the pharmacy from wanting to eat a bullet.  God bless Corpopharm.