Friday, July 17, 2009

Only One Highlight From Today's Pill Counting Action Really.

And it didn't come until almost the end. About a quarter 'till closing I hear the "rustle rustle rustle....." of a dude fighting with his backpack in the customer waiting area. The island of affluence where I sling the pills these days long ago ceded a beachhead to a homeless encampment. Usually however, they don't cross over the line to the land of the moneyed unless they're stealing booze. I figured the guy would have to have some pretty big cajones to not at least go to the back if he was swiping something, so I didn't give him a second thought. Besides, I had shit to do before closing.

Phone rang. I heard more "rustle rustle rustle...." while I advised an old woman if she could have a glass of wine with her Benadryl. I looked up and the homeless dude was at the counter. Ten till closing now. Goddamn it.

"Can you tell me how much these would be to just fill half of 'em?" He asked, and handed over three prescriptions. "I have this" and added a prescription savings card from my employer.

Missing more than a few teeth, stunk to high hell, a prescription for spironolactone and a big 'ol belly that made him look pregnant. Those of you in the professions know those last two things meant he was just about ready to finish drinking himself to death.

To which I can hear the chorus of voices saying "who cares." Fuck you. There's not a person reading this who hasn't made choices that could have turned around and bitten them in the ass at some point. This guy got bit in the ass by alcoholism. There but for the grace of God go I. And you.

A middle aged potbellied man came to pick up his daughter's acne antibiotic. Potbelly from fat, not liver ascites. He bitched about the $7 copay until past closing. That's how the twelvers usually end. Some fatass bitching about his copay. Today I had three more prescriptions to do.

They were cheap. Each of them right at my employers minimum charge. I went ahead and filled the prescriptions in their entirety because I'm not supposed to go below my employer's minimum charge.

Not cheap enough for the homeless dude though. "I've only got $20 with me. I guess I'll check back with you later"

Fifteen past closing now and I got another look at that belly that looked like it was gonna pop.

"Sir did you say you just came from Target?"

A look of confusion.

"Because we'll match prescription prices if you can find a lower one. So they just told you these were on their $4 generic list, huh?"

I was nodding my head yes.

He gave me a smile.

Lucky me had to delete the prescriptions and fill them over form the beginning. Because my employer has the most non kick-ass prescription filling software in the world. I realized what I was doing probably wouldn't put them in a position to update it anytime soon. Half an hour past closing and I got a death glare from the assistant manager who wanted to go home and a "you're very kind" from the man who had none.

I don't have to tell those of you in the profession we are the doormat of healthcare. That the fatasses bitching about their $7 copay usually come after twelve hours of other assorted cretin customers, dickhead doctors, and numbskull nurses bitching and moaning about something over which we have no control. All the responsibility, none of the control. I always said that should be the official motto of pharmacy.

I've also always said though, that every once in a while, me and the Cincinnati Bengals can win one. This night ended with a win, meaning tonight's rum will be celebratory, and not dulling the workday memories as usual. The reason it's rum and not scotch is a reason to celebrate in itself.

Holy shit I just realized I'm on a winning streak.



8 comments:

Erra said...

You are a wonderful person. Thank you for reaching out to that man and helping him, and thank you for writing about it. You made me cry.

Lovely, CPhT said...

Good for you, DrugMonkey. I'm sure he won't forget your kindness.

woolywoman said...

Are you trying to make it hard on St Peter? Cut it out. You are confusing us.

Anonymous said...

This man is a saint.
A noble, sadistic, cynical, alcoholic saint.

I still love you though.

Anonymous said...

why is it the "fat bitch" didnt get the nudge nudge wink wink treatment to reduce her copay? just because she didnt wreck her life? She may have lots of money, but I bet she'd have more if she wasnt paying taxes and bills. whereas the alcoholic, who costs a fortune in healthcare and yet contributes nothing it treated so kindly?

Heather said...

I kind of want to punch anonymous at 5:06 in the mouth, DM. Perhaps you'll let me bitch slap them in writing, instead.

A. Read the post. "fat bitch" was a fatass bitching. Small difference- but he was bitching about a $7 copay on acne medication. Anyone who bitches about $7 for a med (when I pay close to $200/month for my meds) deserves to be ranted about.

B. Are you ACTUALLY suggesting that this old man, whose story you cannot POSSIBLY know, deserves less than what DM can give him? Are you condemning DM for helping a man who probably receives very little kindness? As long as it doesn't negatively affect you, I cannot fathom why you'd bitch about his choice to show someone a little kindness.

Perhaps you believe that life is fair and everyone gets what they deserve. Perhaps you're ignorant enough to believe that people who are sick deserve it for one reason or another. Or maybe you just hate alcoholics and those who don't fit into the "beautiful people" category. Either way, I hope to God you aren't in the medical field- because there are enough pompous, arrogant and judgmental bastards there already.

God bless, DM. You're a good man.

Anonymous said...

i'm glad he walked into your pharmacy. and i hope he enjoys his ice cream. i hope he comes back soon for more.

Anonymous said...

Your answer is matchless... :)