Highlights From Today's Pill Counting Action

The day started with the following actual question from an actual customer who required a doctor's authorization for a prescription refill. He was wearing a Superman t-shirt.

"My doctor's not there today, do you think they'll call in it by this afternoon?"

I didn't try to explain why, I just told the nice customer probably not. I've learned trying to explain why only makes it worse.

I did manage to get a hold of a doctor who was in the office to let him know he prescribed penicillin to a patient who's "tongue swole up real bad" the last time he took penicillin. The nice doctor switched the prescription and the customer thanked me for my efforts by complaining how much more expensive the new med was. I tried to explain that anaphylaxis is remembered long after price is forgotten, but the nice customer was in a bargain hunting mood. The new med was erythromycin. It cost $3 more.

Superman called back in a couple hours, asked for me by name, and waited five minutes on hold until I could get the phone so he could ask:

"Has my doctor called yet?"

Me: "No."

Customer: "OK, I think I'll drive over there."

Mid afternoon brought the following conversation:

Customer: "This new medicine is 100 milligrams. Can I switch back to my old one?"

Me: "Well how has your blood pressure been on this new medicine?"

Customer: "It's been good. That other med never really got it under control."

Me: "Is that why your doctor switched you?"

Customer: "No, the other one made my tongue swell up."

The tongue swelling thing seems to come in cycles.

Me: "So......your old medicine never really got your blood pressure under control, and made your tongue swell. Why do you want to switch back?"

Customer: "This new medicine is 100 milligrams. My old medicine was 20 milligrams"

This was a serious issue to this person. I tried to explain and wished for the simplicity of a conversation with Superman.

Be careful what you wish for. He called back to let me know he was in the parking lot of his doctor's office but couldn't find the entrance.

This was followed by a call from a customer who told us they accidentally took the store's bathroom key home with them. This key is attached to a piece of wood probably three-quarters of a yard long and colored bright blue. You can see it from a mile away and fit it into probably less than 5% of purses ever made. Not to mention a bathroom key is the type of thing you do not want to handle any more than necessary. Yet someone took it home. I thought to myself that we had reached the rock bottom of stupidity.

I should have remembered you can never go broke betting on stupid. Five minutes later I saw the bathroom key in the breakroom, right where it belonged. The only thing dumber than taking home a store's bathroom key is thinking you took it home when you didn't.

Superman never got his Vicodin. Release the scotch.