A Tale Of Health Care Professionals Overworked, Stressed Out, And Pushed To The Breaking Point.

They only wanted a chance to do what they were trained to do. What they went to school for. To care for people the way they were inspired to do at the moment they decided on their life's work. They wanted to do right by the people who depended on them. The corporate overlords had other plans.

"You did a really good job the other day when we were busy" The overlords would say. "We'll be able to save a lot of money by scheduling hours at that level from now on."

"You've got to be kidding me" said the health care professionals. "The other day was a crisis. We can't perform at that level 365 days a year."

"We're paying you good money." Replied the overlords. "You'll do what we say." Then they cut some more hours from the schedule.

So the health care professionals tried to cope. Because patients were depending on them. They spent day after day without seeing the sun with three things to do at once for 12 hours at a time. Their feet hurt. Their back hurt. They tried to cope. They held the health care of the people who depended on them together the best they could for as long as they could, and were rewarded with more tasks and less help. The health care professionals knew that the people who depended on them weren't getting the best the health care professionals had to offer. They were tired, some were broken, and all they wanted was the time to do their job properly.

Sound familiar? Well don't flatter yourself. I'm not talking about you. This group of health care professionals had the testicular fortitude to do something about it.

"I swear to God if you do not change things we will force you" said the California Nurses Association.

"Piss off" said the overlords. "You're cashing your paychecks, so you'll do as you're told"

The overlords started to listen though, when the nurses learned how to play politics. Against all odds, they maneuvered a skinny little weasel serving as Governor into their corner.

"But....but....we'll never be able to run a hospital if you do what they want" said the overlords, but the weasel looked over at the nurses and was afraid. He did what the nurses wanted.

But then the weasel was replaced with a big, scary, terminator robot. "You vill do vat de korprates vant" said the robot. "Or I vill krush you like I krush de aliens in de movees"

The nurses responded by kicking the robot in the testicles, which were very hard to find due to many years of steroid use, and as of January 1st, California has fully implemented its legally mandated nurse to patient ratios. Yet somehow the hospitals have continued to operate. How about that. I am in love with The California Nurses Association, and I desperately wish they would organize this state's pharmacists.

Before you poo-poo me the way you have been programmed to poo-poo the very mention of the word "union," I will remind you that I, and every other pharmacist in California, get 30 minutes to try and stuff some food in my face only because of long-ago efforts by the United Food and Commercial Workers. (Look at the second letter if you click on the link)

Do you get to eat in your state? No? Huh. I bet you get pretty hungry over the course of a 12 hour day. I know I used to. Yet somehow, even with the fact that I get to put something in my stomach, all the prescriptions in California seem to get filled. How about that.

Anyway, you should probably get back to work now. I'm sure you have lots to do.

And I'm pretty sure, unless you do something about it, you'll have more to do tomorrow.

Revenge Of The Nerds.

A good hate mail warms my heart. And someday I'll get a good hate mail and it will warm my heart. In the meantime I'll just have to work with what shows up in the inbox. Got this one in response to what I wrote about the American Pharmacist's Association awhile back:

BJ to me:

you're a fucking idiot. I think you are the kind of pathetic "professional" that counts by fives, makes sure the pill in the bottle looks "like a little blue diamond, how cute" and not much else. You are the kind of pharmacist that cares less about your profession than your paycheck. It probably worries you that the big three automotive companies in this country, Ford, GM, and (the now privately held) Chrysler, mandate that all of their health insurers participate in mail-order-pharmacy. That pretty much makes you insignificant doesn't it? Kinda turns you into a luxury service, totally unnecessary, doesn't it? I'll bet if you had an ounce of foresight about professional aspects, you'd cry your lonely single ass to sleep every night knowing that the job you have will one day (soon) be mostly accomplished by a machine with less processing power than a videogame.

Maybe you'll realize someday that professional organizations protect you and your career. That they try to manipulate the practice guidelines, the legislation, and the education to make you a relevant and beneficial part of healthcare. Without those "dweebs" going to bat for your ungrateful ass everyday, you'd be just another technician. Typical fucking liberal. "Gimme something you worked hard for, and I'll take it for granted and under appreciate you for it."

Well BJ, here's something for you to suck on.

It would have been real easy for you to make me look real stupid for saying APhA is useless. All you had to do was point to a significant, actual, real world accomplishment APhA is responsible for. Just one. I noticed you didn't do that. Why? Because you can't. Because APhA is useless.

Instead you gurgled up an irrational screeching that's as intellectually sound as a customer holding my cashier responsible for Benicar needing a prior auth. Legislation? LEGISLATION? Are you fucking kidding me? The ONLY piece of pharmacy friendly legislation enacted in my career was the 90-day retail mandate for PBM's participating in Medicare Part D, and that was nothing but a bone thrown to NACDS so they could claim they weren't completely anal raped by the rest of the bill. Had we depended on APhA, BJ, we all would have had to swallow the fact that the oldsters would be getting their meds from Medco's central Pharmatron while you were busy setting up a committee to prepare a preliminary report prior to debating where to put a comma in draft 18 of some happy fantasy pie in the sky MTM bullshit.

Then you would have sent out a press release letting us all know how proud you are that Joe Schmo Congress Critter allowed you 10 minutes of face time with a junior staffer in order to present it. APhA produces some of the best dust magnets to be found in DC.

Wait. I guess that means you do do things. I wonder why you didn't spit out the fact that APhA excels at producing unread position papers BJ?

It's the fact that I do care about the profession that makes me wish we had an effective pharmacist's organization in this country. Certainly not one whose members look to the likes of General Motors (fiscal 2007 loss; $38,732,000,000) for lessons in leadership.

Prove me wrong BJ, all you have to do is scrape up one accomplishment in the history of APhA that makes it worthwhile.

Don't scrape too hard though. I hate it when BJ's scrape too hard.

All Right, One More, Which Will Make It A "Does This Only Happen To Me?" Trilogy. Which I'm Pretty Sure Qualifies As A Series.

Dentists and the number 16. Why? I'm pretty sure this one might not be just me, as this has gone on across two states now. Vicodin? 16 tablets. Pen VK? 16 tablets. Cleocin? You've guessed it. Over and over and over again, the magic number is 16, but only from the people who make their living poking around in your mouth.

My first theory is some sort of 4 day rule. Maybe it's in the Dentist's bible that most of their procedures can heal up in 4 days, but..... if that's the case, why is the Vicodin prescription written to be taken every 4 hours? And what magical property of antibiotics would make it standard procedure to use them for 4 days in dental work when the most common length for everything else is 10?

No, there must be another explanation, the number 16 is obviously the key to unlocking the secrets of an evil cult of dentists.

Think about it. There are 32 permanent teeth in humans, which is 16 x 2. Do I really need to say anything more?

Or maybe it is just me. I think that's a good ending for this series. Maybe it's just me.

Hey! I Came Up With Something Else! Which Means This Totally Is A "Does This Only Happen To Me?" Series Now.

So, you ever get a numbnut customer in front of you, pointing to some patch of skin, or to their eye or something, and saying something like, "WHAT CAN I DO ABOUT THIS?" and you look at whatever they're pointing to, and it looks as normal as any other part of them?

This happens to me a lot, and I'm not sure if it's a problem with people's self-image, or a problem like I have a total lack of perception.

I'll usually just say something like "Does it itch?" to try and get a handle on what's going through their brain. People like it better when their pharmacist says something like "Does it itch?" as opposed to "You look just fine to me."

Not to mention about 60% of the time it does turn out to itch.

It Always Sucks To Lose one Of The Good Ones.

You could not have been more correct sir:





I can think of only one way to pay tribute. By broadcasting these words as far and wide as my ability will allow:

Shit

Piss

Fuck

Cunt

Cocksucker

Motherfucker

Tits.

George Carlin fought the good fight. I hope on my last day they'll be able to say the same of me.

The First Of A New Series Of Posts. "Does This Only Happen To Me?" Unless I Decide Not To Write Another One. In Which Case It Won't Be A Series.

...and in which case I should probably come up with an alternate post title, in case this doesn't turn out to be a series. How about, The Doctor Fax Follies, Part 2. Wait. Part 2 would make it a series. Christ, this blog stuff can be harder than you think sometimes.

Anyway, you ever send a fax to a doctors office to clarify something, I dunno, some handwriting issue let's say, and you clearly state why you're sending said fax, like you circle the name of the med that looks like it could be one of three things because Dr. Dumbass' handwriting looks a little like Arabic written in the dark after a 2 week crystal meth binge, and you write "PLEASE CLARIFY NAME OF MED" right next to the part you circled in what is unmistakably English, and what you get back is something like, a new set of directions?

When the directions weren't the part you couldn't read? You could read the directions just fine, and now they have changed. And you still don't know what the hell med was prescribed. Making the whole exercise worse than pointless.

Does this ever happen to anyone else? Because this kind of thing happens enough to me that I would be a little frightened if I were a member of the prescription taking public.

I'll try to come up with something else so I can make this a series. No promises though. I may not be able to take the pressure and might just end up spending tomorrow hiding under my bed.

Sometimes, When I'm Sad And Blue, I Sing Myself A Little Song.

It goes a little something like this:

I can do whatever I want

whatever I want

whatever I want

I can do what ever I want

I just left the toilet seat up.


I am master of the remote

I can bang on a pan!

I can fart really loud

Yes yes I can!

'cause I'm single and can do what I want.


A nasty lovers spat

I don't know what that is!

couple politics

that's none of my biz!

yes, that dress

makes you look fat

you know why I can tell you that?

'cause I'm single and can do what I want.


the tempo now dramatically slows, think climax of a Broadway musical number....

Someday I'll die alone......in a pool of my own urine.

But for now its fast cars, freedom and pourin'...............

the scotch

and the gin

every day feels like a big new win........

Because I do

what

ever

I

want.

I Want To Marry MoveOn.Org, Have All Their Babies, And Tell John McCain He Can't Have Them.

This is the kind of shit I want to see on every goddamn TV in this country between now and November:




My God so many reasons this commercial makes my political dick hard. Finally, the end of my side practicing the politics of pansiness. Finally, the pro-life party that started the festival of death gets its shit called.

And we don't do it in the dirty, lying, Swift Boat type of way. We don't have to. There is no need to lie or slander. All we have to do is take what they do and shove it down their throats.

Look Alex's mother in the eye John McCain. Do it enough times and maybe you'll stop treating life and death like it's some type of joke:



Did I miss something? Should I have made up some sort of soundtrack to the thought of the North Vietnamese beating the living piss out of you when you were a POW? Because you know John, the first time I heard that story, about what they did to you, I didn't think it was funny at all. I really don't get the whole war as a joke thing.

Maybe we're just different, you and me. I'm OK with that. I'm totally OK with being nothing like you.

Good luck Alex.

The American Pharmacists Association Is Looking For A New CEO. Which They Pretend Is Important To Pharmacists For Some Reason.

I had actually forgotten The American Pharmacists Association exists, until I saw this story in Drug Topics while taking a dump at the store the other day. I'm pretty sure the last time APhA crossed my brain was some time in college, when our student chapter was universally recognized as a dweeb magnet whose only useful function was keeping the pencil-necked nerds away from the rest of us.

I should be clear though, when I say nerds, I don't mean people who were really smart and would go on to accomplish real things in the real world. Those kind of people never joined APhA. You know the kid who sits in the front row of every class and thinks they are better than everyone else because they raise their hand at every question, get it wrong, and thereby necessitate a 10 minute diversion from the planned lecture as the professor struggles to get something into their pointy little head?

That kid would be total APhA material.

They also specialized in having meetings where they would talk at great length about things like whether a pharmacy technician could ask a customer if they would like the pharmacist to go over their medicine with them, or if the offer had to actually be made by the pharmacist. I am not kidding you. They would talk about this for hours, and get quite worked up about it. I know because I had to go to APhA meetings while I was a pledge in my fraternity. My fraternity wasn't concerned about advancing the profession mind you, the forced attendance was part of the hazing process.

At any rate, it would seem that APhA is still around, and that they're in the market for a new leader. According to the article:

APhA began the process by assembling a committee to establish the key criteria for selecting a new CEO. "APhA spent a lot of time trying to build consensus on the criteria," he said.

I have no problem believing that. That they spent a lot of time trying to build consensus on the criteria. Here's what they came up with:

• Must be a pharmacist as required by the APhA bylaws.
• Must be an APhA member.
• Must be a US citizen.
• Must have demonstrated prior or current leadership abilities.
• Must be able to pass a government background check.

I'm glad they put in that part about the government background check. It makes me feel all safe and stuff to know an Al-Qaeda operative won't be the next CEO of APhA.

I'm also glad to find out that as soon as I join their little talking club, I will be eligible for immediate consideration. That really shows how well spent all the time was they put in to come up with their criteria.

So yeah, it's been about 18 years since APhA last popped up on my radar screen, and after reading this, I fully expect it to be another 18 or so before they pop up again.

I do feel like tracking down the nearest APhA member and giving them a wedgie right now though.

Dweebs.

Let's Keep The Short-Night Stupidity Series Going One More Day.....

Alternate Post Title: Sign Number 785,251,123,985,769 Of The Imminent Collapse Of The American Health Care System.

Alternate Alternate Post Title: Sometimes The Customer Is Not The Idiot, Part 4.

"Ms. Smith, it says on your new customer form that you're allergic to Lortab. Is that correct?"

"Yes"

"So what exactly did the Lortab do to you when you took it?"

Ho hum. I do this a couple times a day. I got ready to hear all about how it made her tummy hurt. Snore. The doctor who wrote the prescription for Vicodin had probably heard all this already. Sigh.

Lortab and Vicodin, you see, are two different brands of the same product. Like Motrin and Advil are both ibuprofen.

"Well, it made me really itchy, and I got these splotches..."

Holy crap! A real allergy that made its way to my level! This is like a blue moon. It happens just often enough to remind you that it can.

Stupid customer obviously didn't bother to let her doctor know.....because there’s no way a doctor would write a prescription for Vicodin if she had told him this. Because Vicodin and Lortab are the same thing.

“Well, this prescription is for a different brand of Lortab…..”

"WHAT!!!!????? YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!!"

Turns out she had let her doctor know. And she had asked her nurse once she started itching in the hospital if they were giving her Lortab. More than once she had asked if they were giving her Lortab. Because Lortab made her itch. The way she was itching now.

Wow she was mad. Can't blame her really.

Hope to hell I don't have to testify at someone's malpractice trial.