Corpopharm Crisis Calamity

Sometimes life can throw you a curveball. The last month at Corpopharm has been a big old shit sandwich, and we've all gotten to take a bite. Here's the highlights:

1. One of our regular pharmacists quit. The grass was greener over at Corpopharm 2 and he hauled stakes like a donkey on a hay binge. Which leads to...

2. Floaters! I've talked about floaters before. They're temp pharmacists that Corpopharm sends in to pick up the slack when a general infantryman goes down in the heat of battle. Even if they don't suck, the pharmacy just doesn't run a smoothly with one of it's well oiled parts missing. That's not even worth considering though, because they always suck. Hard. The floater we had this week actually threw a tantrum and got in a fight with a technician, right in the middle of a busy work day. Fucking sweet.

3. My partner got fired. The asshole decided to let his license expire. This means I've been working the last month by myself. Whatever, I don't need time off.

4. New computer system! This wouldn't be much of a problem, but most of our technicians our legally retarded. I'm bringing in a bunch of monkeys to bang at the keyboards while hurling excrement. I'm sure it will be an improvement.

I'm sure there's been plenty of funny stories, but I don't remember them. It doesn't matter. Next month contains two events that will erase this month in one fell swoop:

1) Nine Inch Nails: September 5, Wiltern Theater

I've heard LA is quite an awful place. I'm willing to bear it, if only this one time. NIN is currently on their last tour ever, and I managed to score tickets for the second to last show EVER. If I survive it, you can expect some eventful pictures and video footage.

2) Great American Beer Festival Sept 25

Nestled in the heart of downtown Denver, this quaint little festival is host to the best breweries in America. With literally thousands of beer ripe for the tasting, you're a fool not to be there. I am not a fool. I will be there.

Anal Asinine Analgesia

Remember the deer hunter from last November? He was back last night! Without referring to the old post, this gentlemen arrived at the pharmacy in the middle of the night late in last November because his maintenance narcotics had been unceremoniously removed from his person by a cadre of ruffians. It grieves me just to say it.

Deer Hunter: hey i got these scripts from the 'mergeny room here in town cuz i was out to the river today an' i had my meds in my backpack an' i slid down the river bank an' my backpack came off an' i lost my meds can you fill these for me?

This time DH had brought backup in the form of Deer Hunter Mother. She was clearly in charge here.

DHM: My boy needs his med-i-ka-shun! How long will this take?

Me: Just a few minutes. If you would like to have a seat, I'll let you know just as soon as...

DH: Yeah I need 'em cuz I take these real regular an' if I stop...

Me: Yes, I'm aware. Please take a seat. This won't take long.

Did I mention DH was shirtless? The young man had obviously been out to the river shirtless as well, as evidenced by the very nasty sunburn that was now resident on the upper half of his body. About this time, the night manager wandered by. Last nights manager was the type of woman who takes Zero Shit from anybody. I love her precisely for that reason. As soon as she spotted DH, she immediately decided to lay down the law.

Manager (addressing DH): You gotta shirt? You can't be in here without a shirt.

DH: I got second degree burns...

DHM: He's got second degree burns all over...

At this point, I managed to catch Manager's eye and telegraphed to her that I had the situation under control (so far) and that I would radio for backup if necessary. She tipped me a wink and continued about her work.

Those of you in the field will know that DH's insurance claims were promptly rejected by Medicaid because he had just filled a months supply recently. The medications he was aiming to replace would cost about $70 out of pocket. I motioned DHM to the counter. I assumed she was the one funding this little adventure. DH had also already fled the scene.

I explained how much the medication would cost and why. DHM accepted my explanation with no malice, stating that she would go to DH's regular pharmacy in the morning and take care of it. I was glad DH was not present, as he would have undoubtedly had a Class I Nuclear Meltdown in the pharmacy. When you tell junkies they have to go without their fix for any extended period of time, they tend to get a bit upset.

The best part? The Manager had her eye on DH from the second he entered the store, and caught him shoplifting a cane (of all things) on his way out. As DHM was paying for a few other very necessary purchases at the pharmacy upon concluding our business (soda and potato chips) Manager approached and informed DHM that her sticky fingered son owed the store for one (1) cane. DHM stammered out an apology and counted out some bills on the counter. I bit my lip, allowing the better half to fight the battle.

I've been on the Medicaid rant before. This is just another great example of how dumb people breed dumb(er) people who make many bad decisions that all the rest of the tax paying populace gets to pay for. DH went and got loaded at the river, sustained a second degree sunburn, and lost his medication. Good fucking deal.

DH strutted proudly away from the pharmacy with his new cane-enabled gait, and the very ground shook. Jesus wept, and all the philistines cast out their nets.

Yesterday Morning

Yesterday morning I was wandering around the house doing my normal after work routine when the doorbell rang. Normally, I never answer the door. Anyone who has to ring the doorbell at my house has no business entering. Yesterday, I was feeling feisty. I opened the door.

Old Lady: Hello! My name is Gladys, and I'm here from the church off...

Her spiel ended nearly as quickly as it started. If you've ever interacted with a door-to-door religious zealot, you know those crafty fuckers fire it up as soon as they hear the door knob turn. Once her eyes broke from mine, she lost her train of thought and just sort of gaped for a second. Trying to see it from her perspective, I wouldn't blame her. I was wearing shorts and nothing else. I had a glass of whiskey (Baker's(neat)) in my hand. I have many tattoos.

Me: Good morning! Are you recruiting?

Old Lady: I, uhhhhh...

At this point, I started to feel bad about answering the door. Picture the situation. This self satisfied retiree gets up early and dons her summer appropriate flower pattern dress. Dog eared bible in hand, she sets out upon the local neighborhood to locate prospective congregation members. What does she find? Some young, tattooed, whiskey drinking miscreant who is more inclined to curse her off his porch than he is to tithe to the lord. I decided terrorizing her would be a lowly form of entertainment.

Me: Thanks for stopping by! I already belong to the church up the street (a blatant lie, but she would have taken any excuse up to and including I was a devout muslim).

Old Lady: Of course! Have a nice day!

She scampered away. I only hope I didn't injure her ideal version of the American Dream.

Happy Honky Happenstance

So, last night I was called a honky motherfucker on the phone. I don't know how he knew I was a honky. Maybe it was my stubborn refusal to answer his question, or possibly my go-to-hell air of authority. I have to admit, though, he had me dead to rights.

The phone rings 3:45 AM CST:

Guy: Hey! I got a question... How ya doin? Uh, what is this A-L-P-R-A-Z-O-L-A-M?

People often spell out the names of drugs they don't know how to pronounce. I always have to scramble to write it quickly, because they usually read off the letters like they're some kind of crazed circus auctioneer. I missed the class in pharmacy school where we learn how to string together 10 letters in our heads to spell fancy words.

Also, a side note is in order here. Any time someone calls and asks me about one of the popular controlled substances like Vicodin or Xanax (alprazolam), I usually stonewall unless they can prove they have a script for it. The calls come in two forms: 1) they want me to identify a pill that turns out to be one of the aforementioned drugs or 2)they find a bottle of aforementioned drugs and give me the name without knowing how to say it. What does this mean? Usually that this drug is not theirs. What does that mean? That they stole it from a friend/relative or found it (stole it). In either case, they shouldn't be taking it. If I tell them what it is, they will DEFINITELY be taking it.

Me: Is this your medication?

Guy: Yeah!

Me: Did you get that filled at Corpopharm?

Guy: Uh, yeah!

Me: OK, what's your name? I'll look you up in the computer and then we can talk about it.

Guy: No, man, I just need to know what it is. It's A-L-P...

Me: I heard you the first time. If it's your medication, I'll look you up in the computer and tell you all you need to know.

Guy: It's my wifes medication.

Me: Does she have a question about it? I can talk to her.

Guy: Man, ya'll some honky motherfuckers!

Me: OK. Later.

At least he was honest. I have to say, I always frigured myself for more of a high-handed cracker than some lowly, ignorant honky. I guess beauty is always in the eye of the beholder.

Laptop Literature Lasciviousness

Here's a few more funnies from the ol' laptop archive. Once again, these were all typed out quickly while the pills were flying and the patients were screaming. I'll put in exactly what I typed at that time, followed by an explanation to help preserve that raw pharmacy experience I know you all crave.

1. why so much? medicaid patient elected not to get lancets.

-I thought this one was pretty funny. This guy was picking up about 8 scripts on Saturday night. He had Medicaid and everything went through with paid claims except for his lancets. Lancets are what diabetics use to pierce their skin in a relatively painless and sanitary manner so that they can get a blood sugar measurement. For some reason his lancets wouldn't go through Medicaid. So, when I rang them up it was for the cash price.

Guy: Why is it so expensive? (translation: why is it more than $0)

Me: Medicaid didn't pay for your lancets.

Guy: Ok, just leave those here. I'll take everything else.

I wanted to ask, but I didn't. How the hell is he going to draw blood for his blood glucose checks? Steak knives? Rusty nails? Get in a fight with the wife?

2. i don't carry a purse anymore. I work in the ghetto and we get help up about 2x monthly. (medicaid pt who didn't have here childrens cards.)

-This was from a woman who was getting some medication for her kids. Apparently she lives in a poor part of town and works at a Cricket kiosk. She said they get robbed at least twice a month. So, if you're lucky enough to be working when the robbery occurs, you get robbed as well. Fabulous. Not only does she have a shitty job, but everytime she goes in some thug steals her purse. Wonder how her 401 is. Anyway, the woman had had her purse stolen so many times that she just gave up carrying one. She did have all her kids Medicaid information in a well organized laminate folder, though. So that was nice.

3. Guys comes looking for vaporub in 'little tins'. I show him the vaporub, saying that's all we have. He stands around waiting for the little size to materialize. Opens a couple packages to make sure i'm not lying. I walk away. He comes back to the pharmacy and wants to know if blistex is ok to use. I ask what for, and he says his 3 year olds lips are dry. I say yes that should do the trick. 2 hours later: guy returns with girl, asks where the vaporub is. I blow my brains out.

-Pretty self explanitory. No shit, he did ask again where the Vaporub was on his second trip into the store. We were out in the aisle for at least 5 minutes the first time because I had to explain the difference between Vaporub and Vaporub. It's these type of interactions that once again prove that humans should be born sterile until they prove themselves intelligent.

4. A bunch of the techs here must read magazines like us and people, because they're always sitting around the pharmacy. The fact that those magazines exist is a sure sign that we as humans are doomed. Does anybody but me think that the jon and kate plus 8 (even i know what that show is now i guess) couple look like a couple of aliens? All those little fuck trophies are going to end up on abilify, adderall, prozac, and catapress. Mark my words.

-I know some of you read those magazines, but I'm not going to make any attempt to hide that I believe they are pure trash. As a side note, I would fire every tech in that pharmacy save for a few of the interns if I were in charge. What a pack of animals. One of the few good ones bailed 5 months ago without a word to anybody. Zero. Fast forward to late May and I'm taking a piss at a Nine Inch Nails concert. From behind me I hear someone call my name. I turned around (don't worry, I finished pissing first) and BAM, the tech that eloped. Go figure. I guess he got sick of the city and moved out to California to hang out with his girlfriend. Too bad he left me with a bunch of morons.

5. Some guy gave me shit for telling him to back off to provide private consultation. He said, 'i heard that, and you didn't talk about drugs at all.' great. Don't think he realizes he just proved my point.

-Corpopharm doesn't do much to provide a private consultation area so that people can talk to the pharmacist without others hearing. That's important, because I have to be able to explain why their copay is so high. This particular incidence involved a guy coming up to the counter and standing directly beside the person that was picking up a script. Seriously, they could have held hands. So, I told him to take a few steps back and he looked at me like I'd just offered to rape his mother. Who does that? I don't even get in people's personal space in line at the grocery store, let alone in a place where they're talking about their boner pill or psoriasas cream. Freak.

Sunday Fun Day

So I decided to try something new at work. The last few nights, as soon as I arrived I opened a doc on my laptop and made notes of every 'incidence' that occured, be it amusing, interesting, infuriating, etc. I just realized lately that all the things I used to write about started to seem so normal that by the time I get home I don't even feel like writing about them. So while you're reading these, picture some obese woman screaming at me about her Vi-Co-Dans while I'm snickering and pecking away at my laptop. That should make them funnier.

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Weekends are a magical time in the pharmacy. Saturday and Sunday nights, I have to be to work at 7 PM instead of 10 PM. This means I get to interact with lots of interesting people that I miss out on during the night time. The first phone call I received was from one such interesting person.

Person: Yeah, uh, I fill my, uh, seizure medication at the Corpopharm at, uh, _____ and they is closed! It's for my seizures!! What am I supposed to do?

You know it's going to be a fun conversation when your conversant says uh five times per sentence. She stressed the what, as if it was somehow my fault that she decided to run out of her pills. I almost told her that forgetting your seizure medication is a common side effect of Idiopathic Stupidity, an untreatable terminal condition, and that she might as well drive her minivan off a cliff and save the system millions of dollars in Medicaid payments. Instead, I told her to come to my pharmacy to pick up a few pills. I'm such a nice guy.

My very second call came from a young woman proclaiming that another Corpopharm had made a 'crucial error' in her medication, and she demanded to know what I planned to do about it. I asked her for her name and punched her up in the computer. The very handy corpopharm database presented me with her medication history from another pharmacy. I decided to get right to the heart of the issue.

Me: Ok, what's the problem.

Idiot: Corpopharm was supposed to call me when my prescription came in. They didn't, and now I'm out!

Me: Corpopharm typically doesn't call everyone when they get a script faxed or called from a doctor. Did you ask them to call you?

Idiot: No, but they gave me a few tablets when I was out a few days earlier, so I assumed they would know!

Me: (sigh) What medication is it?

Idiot: My Synthroid. I'm all the way out and I have to take it at exactly 5 am. My pharmacy doesn't open until 10 am. Something needs to be done about this!

The whole conversation was pretty unnecessary, but I had decided to let the chick slip the noose around her neck on her own because it amuses me. The computer record stated her rx had been filled 7-30. Yestday was 8-1, meaning she had let it sit there for 2 days. Oh boy.

Me: It says in the computer that your script was filled 2 days ago. Its ready to pick up at your pharmacy. They open at 10 AM tomorow. You can pick it up then.

Idiot: I said I have to take it at 5 AM!

Me: I said that a few hours on one day won't make a difference. You waited until you were out of your medication and your pharmacy was closed to address this issue. Pick it up tomorow.

She was at my pharmacy an hour later, saying she had called her doctor and that she HAD to take her dose at 5 AM. I almost went in back, grabbed a hammer, and pounded on my balls for a few hours. It would have been as painful as talking to all those assholes, minus the stupid. Instead, I gave her a pill and sent her on her way. Hopefully she made it to her vehicle without jumping out into traffic.

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The next thing I saw was a cabby praying in the parking lot. It was sun down, and apparently this guy was Muslim. He got out of the cab, put his little rug down on the concrete facing Mecca, and started praying away. I understood completely, as I usually feel pretty spiritual whenever I'm at Corpopharm. Most of the other parking spots were currently in use by people at the bar next door, so I guess he was sort of balancing out all those sinners.

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Beautiful Booze Boon

Just so you know, Corpopharm is still open and the pills are flowing like amber waves o' grain. Although there's been plenty to write about (swine flu, the FDA wanting to take away Tylenol and Vic-O-Dans, the Obama Health Care Masacre), I haven't felt like writing about any of it. Sometimes, well, it just doesn't seem that funny (tear, sniff).

Of course my patients have been up to the same old antics. Just the other day a guy told me I gave him 50 Vicodin instead of 100. I have to admire that he really went for the gold on that one. Even my fellow health care professionals are going crazy. A fellow pharmacist stopped in the other night to tell me how much better things were going for him. He stated that he was getting some of his health problems under control and that he had a date lined up for Friday night after a long dry spell. Then, he proceeded to visit another 24 hour Corpopharm and tell the pharmacist there (who called me afterward) that he was planning to kill himself soon. So it goes.

This, however, is just Too Fucking Rich. On my way up to the front of the store last night for my daily dose of Diet Mountain Dew (one of my few vices, besides amputee porn and skinning hookers) I spied with my little eyes this monument to alcohol abuse in the photo above. Just another representation of Corpopharm's concern for your health and well being. The first thought in your brain bucket upon entering the apothecary should be Jager bombs and drinking until you black out. What? Do you know anyone using Jager for anything else?

An elderly couple enter Corpopharm. The woman is supporting herself with a walker. There are tennis balls attached the feet that are that perfect bright yellow-green in the July sun. It's morning sun, not that hot, angry afternoon sun that bakes the parking lot asphault and makes dogs want to bite. The man has on a straw hat with a little feather poking out of the hatband at a jaunty angle. They are here for their monthly medications, and that's all right.

Woman: My, my! It's certainly fixin' to be a cooker! 90 degrees by noon, mark my words!

Man: Yuh, I reckon you're right. Why, it's a good thing this pharmacy is open so early. I do declare that venturin' out into the heat for us old folks is a per-i-lous pursuit!

Woman: While we're here, don't let me forget to pick up... Saaaaayyyyy, is that a cooler full of that Jager-whats-it over yonder?

Man: Where? I don't... Ah! By gum, I think it is! Isn't that the concoction that all the kids are drinking these days?

Woman: Yes, it is! They drink it by the quart, then they go out on the town and get up to dickens! Why, I do believe junior had a headful of that stuff when he burned down the ol' McCibben place.

Man: Golly! It's even in the cooler already. What do you say, Maud, don't you think a cold snootful' would be powerful refreshin' on a hot day like this?

Woman: Oh, to be young again!

The old couple forgets all about the pharmacy and their medication. The leave Corpopharm with an ice cold bottle of Jagermeister and a little extra spring in their step. They never return.

Happy Independence Day, everyone. Remember what it's all about.