I will surely win the first Nobel Prize to be awarded in Pharmacy. Perhaps for my work over five years ago that will one day rid the world of tuberculosis. Or maybe for a brainstorm that struck me as I walked back to the happy pill room this day on my way back from lunch.
That's right every non-California pharmacist. My employer forces me to close the pharmacy and go eat. Forces he said. If I don't do it I can count on getting a phone call from corporate Monday morning. This stems from a victory won by the United Food and Commercial Workers Union back when unions still had a smidgen of power. So, thanks to the UFCW, I got to eat some tuna salad today.
Think about that for awhile then ask yourself if that's more than APhA has ever done for you. We both know the answer.
The crowds were thick and furious at the mall this day. Annoyingly so. Random numbnuts whose cellphone conversations evidently make them blind. Unpredictable yard apes liable to bolt in any direction at any time. Mormons. The only exception being when I walked in front of the bank. Why is it exactly that when someone is withdrawing $50 from a machine they are ensured of a bubble of privacy from the general public, but when grandpa is asking me if Cialis will give him a 3-day boner you can almost count on some lunatic coming up, standing next to him, and possibly interrupting grandpa mid-sentence with a question about where to drop off the film? Well no more. When I'm finished installing ATM machines next to every pharmacy cash register in the country, grandpa can ask me about his boners in peace.
You're welcome America.
Someone played out "Mary Had a Little Lamb" using their touch tone phone on the store's voicemail. It was perfect. The way they blended one note into the next showed effort and a little talent. I don't know why, but that message restored my faith in humanity a little bit.
It was soon destroyed. "What should I use in my eyes for allergies?" said a woman with very, very, tall hair. Normally I'm all about the hair, but this was just...freaky. I was trying to figure out if it was a wig and was distracted from the fact she had something in her hand. "Try some Zadator" I said, seeing the bottle in her hand too late.
Most of you in the profession know what happens when you recommend something to a person with a bottle already in their hand. They will engage you in a debate over the merits of what you suggested vs. what they are holding, and will ultimately buy what they came to the counter with over 95% of the time. Tip to all pharmacy students: If someone asks for a recommendation while holding a product, look the product over, and if they are not going to hurt themselves, say something like "that should do the trick"
Because you need to save your energy. You need to save it for customers like the lady later on that evening who asked "If I don't want to take Coumadin anymore what strength of aspirin should I use?" You must engage these people. You must fight them with all your power and pry that aspirin bottle from their hand. It will be difficult, and you will question at times whether it is worth it, but remember that person has a mother who loves them, or perhaps a dog, and you need to get that aspirin out of their goddamn hand for Rover's sake. It's not Rover's fault the human who adopted him is an idiot, and if the idiot dies, Rover will possibly be taken to the shelter and put down.
You must fight for Rover.
I went to refill the laser printer and saw there was one sheet of paper in the supply box. Someone left one sheet of paper in there so they could pretend it wasn't empty and thereby spare themselves the effort of going to the back room to get another box. I'm glad everyone who works in the store has a good union-provided healthcare plan, because when I find out who did this, I plan on hurting them.
On an allergy themed weekend, I told a 6 year-old child's mother she should "give the Claritin a shot" to treat the little dude's hayfever. Whereupon little dude starts to cry, thinking I'm about to give him an injection. I do kinda like my job sometimes.
I was almost run over by a car in the parking lot on my way home. Which would have been a shame because then I never would have got to collect my union-provided pension. Don't get me wrong, I still get to gamble in the stock market with a 401(k) like you do, but I can do it while counting on a set amount of retirement income guaranteed by law and insured like a bank deposit.
My last words would have been "Jesus Fucking Christ," which may be the same speech I give when I accept my Nobel Prize.
7 comments:
Seriously, if you want someone to listen. Whisper. The ad campaign worked pretty good for the perfume and it still works wonders for the pharmacy counter. Hushed tones, and every ear perks up. Now, that I can no longer hear the lower frequencies, my ears still try to hear like the moving radar screen when it seems like someone is talking. Which is what I imagine every other person does, while I attempt to answer the most intimate questions from my patients. It's pretty bad on the phone, too. A word, and suddenly, the whole pharmacy is quiet. Listening for how I will word a reply so sublimely that someone coming in the front door might not know what is going on. (Please, someone start coughing, a triple sneezing fit. Drop a spatula. Anything, so that my answer will not be heard by the cleaning lady in the back.) Some of the most hilarious moments I've encountered in the pharmacy are with nearly deaf people in a noisy pharmacy. Yelling at the top of lungs using terminology the patient will understand, "Does it hurt when you pee?" (And, then having to repeat it several different times in different ways.)
And, what about that mother of the 2-yr old that wants your advice for an eardrop. The little one seems in pain, crying, etc. as mom hands you a bottle of homeopathic crap--the only thing labeled as an entirely safe eardrop in the drugstore?
And, what happens when that same patient questioning rat poison has never discussed the matter of even taking it before with you and suddenly after reading something in Prevention or visiting Aunt Clarabelle or talking with others waiting in the beauty shop calls you up on a Sunday night and mentions, "Oh by the way, I'm taking your father to see the specialist 400 miles away, and I will ask him, too."
As for the printer issues. Every pharmacy has a resident expert, on anything that has to do with making that recalcitrant anachronistic continue to function, whose position has everlasting job security because it will save the dept. from having to invest in this bottomless pit of endless expenditure. I have work at 3 (no, make that 4) shops so far that have maintained a printer from 20 yrs ago --with static electricity guard still intact--though the paper is no longer perforated green and white striped with holes along the side.) Once the printer is changed along with paper/labels/etc. and settings, it will have to be changed every 2-3 yrs for a newer more durable model. It's just easier to keep the original and a resident printer maint. person in the pharmacy, and make sure that person never has a day off. Sometimes, though, this person does a little sabotage on the side, to ensure, and they're sometimes the one to let the paper run out so that only they can figure out how to resume the proper settings.
But, this JFC business has gotta stop, desist. Somewhere. Sometime.
Hear this particular interjection all I the time from my kids and spouse who are not Spanish, and sometimes it plays back in my head when I'm trying to get the sound of the hospital pharmacy pneumatic rumbling tube out of my head. It is so confusing. Spoken usually with a great vehemence, is it directed at me, or is this person standing behind me? Should I turn around and genuflect? Perturbing. I'm afraid I am becoming inured to whether it is no longer a profanity, or will fail to bow to bended knee if I attend Mass. Eye daggers to anyone that utters it in line while awaiting their script!
(S'pose it's better than KFC!). However, JFC is a large importer of my favorite foods out of San Francisco: mochi, sembei, Kasugai, calpis, Pocky, edemame, Kewpie, gyoza; natto? (No way!) Daifuku. As a double-entendre, sweet mochi might work just as well or better than JFC. Daifuku, pronounced dye-foo-koo, with the emphasis on the middle syllable.
JFC just strokes the ego of all those Old Testament adherents who don't at all believe in the new one.
What about those mothers with the squalling 2-yr old and the little bottle of homeopathic ear drop crap that want your advice? They never want to hear that that the kid should be seeing a doc and always want something to stick in their kids ear no matter what you tell them.
And, what about that older female patient that calls on you Sunday afternoon before closing, who never has mentioned a question before about it, so you don't even know she's taking warfarin and mentions that her neighbor lady just brought over something from her garden/kitchen/fishing trip/etc. and mentioned the neighbor said something about it and, now, she's wondering whether she should continue it, and then something to the effect of "by the way, your father and I...". (Like Mom, why didn't you tell me before that your doctor prescribed it? I mean, I'm a pharmacist and all, and you did help me through pharmacy school, and now, you're thinking of quitting it on your own because of?)
Love it as usual. Hits the nail right smack dab on the head.
Did the mother name her kid Claritin? Because that would be awesome
@Anon 7:57: Never met any Claritins, but I ran across a patient named Allegra once.
@DM,MOP: "ATM" presupposes "machine". "ATM machine" is as redundant as "PIN number". (Now go put your Personal Identification Number number in the Automatic Teller Machine machine.) Sorry, this is just one of my pet peeves, like people who pluralize "z'chus" as "z'chusim" when it should be "zechuyos". Grr.
And yes, I've spoken with patients who come up to the counter asking me what they should take for condition X, and when I answer the question with some product other than what they've already got clenched in their fist, they give me an argument about why can't they use this instead. Hey, you asked for my professional opinion, I gave it. If you (think you) already know the answer and won't accept anything else, why the hell did you ask me in the first place? Just go buy what you want and leave me alone.
I've been working on a tshirt for you in my screen printing class. I tried to put the entire post about the GOP jackass running for governor of Florida, but I couldn't make it work - don't have the skill yet (yes, screen printing takes skill, who knew?)
Anyhow, I think I have a new idea consisting of your blog title and the tagline you must fight for Rover.
I have nightmares about Raj Bhat dying and I did add a contact me function to my blog. If you catch me on the right day, you could even chat with me.
Fight for Rover.
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