Another Video Warning To Each And Every Pharmacy Student Across This Land. This Is What You Are Lining Up For.

1) My question is, why didn't they just transfer her prescriptions? Cause I gotta tell you, when I was in retail hell, that was something a lady like this never would have had to say twice.

2) The bland, soothing music in the background is a nice touch. "Heartbreak Hotel" isn't a bad choice for the soundtrack either.

3) Pharmacy students of the world, you will deal with this at least once a year over the course of your career. Probably more often. Merry Christmas.

From The Mailbag, Five Years Later, A Guess As Good As Any

Hardcore fans of the Drugmonkey will remember the Christmas present that baffled me. I wrote about it in the blog a few years back and included a chapter on it in my awesome book. In short, a customer who used to drop off little Christmas presents every year once gave me a manicure set. A mystery manicure set. It didn't come with instructions you see, and while some parts of it were self explanatory enough, there were some utensils that completely stumped this college graduate and Mensa member. Here's a picture of the mystery implements:

Many things have changed since I wrote that original post. I escaped chain "pharmacy" hell and became a responsible business owner. I moved from the liberal bastion of Coastal California into the embrace of the Sierras, I met and will soon marry the most awesomest woman on the planet.

But I still have no idea what these things are. Not a clue. And I'm still worried that customer gave them to me to correct some hygiene or grooming problem that makes me less than smokin' hot.

The other day though, I got this in my mailbox:

Hello, 

My name is Xxxxxx. I’ve been in the Navy for about 3 and a half years, and close to the time of me getting out, I have taken an interest in pharmacy. Looking up various books about the field, I found your book entitled “Why Your Prescription Takes So Damn Long to Fill.” I’m still reading it, although so far I’ve enjoyed it. Although I am no doctor, I can relate to dealing with the stupidity of the general public in retail. In regards to the mysterious tools in the manicure set, the one to the far right with the split pieces of metal, I’d say it was something used to stick inside a dick hole, and the pieces of metal keep the hole in the meat helmet spread open and stay open, maybe allowing an easier going STD test. That’s my best guess. Hopefully I could help.

Yes Mr. X.,  help you did indeed. Because that's the most plausible suggestion I've had to date. Which means now I can worry that I give off the appearance of a syphilis-wrecked shell of a man in desperate need of help. That's way better than just thinking I might be less than the ultimate piece of man meat.

I hope my fiancee' doesn't see this.

Nation Prepares For The Annual Running Of The Tools.

Blogpost original air date, November 24, 2011


BETONVILLE, AR- From the small town Sears to major shopping destinations in cities around the country, excitement filled the air today as millions readied themselves for the start of the annual shopping season that begins tonight with the Running of The Tools. This years Tool Run is expected to begin as early as midnight at retailers in all 50 states, as dullards of every stripe gather to test their mettle in competition with what passes for human beings these days in an effort to score a discounted price on electronics, clothing, toys, and other miscellaneous crap that will most likely end up in a landfill within a year.

"We used to call it the running of the sheeple" said Wal-Mart Vice President Johnnie C. Dobbs. "but then we realized that sheep, unlike the crowds of barbarians that gather in front of our stores every year, very rarely get violent when crammed together in large herds."

Dobbs then climbed to the top of corporate headquarters and tossed 10 vouchers good for $100 off any laptop computer to the crowd below "just to give them a little taste of blood" One person's eyes were gouged out in the resulting melee.

While the precise origin of The Running of The Tools is unclear, archaeological research indicates it may have begun as part of a ritual of giving thanks for the sweatshop laborers whose work producing plastic disposable trinkets makes it possible for Americans to maintain a standard of living unmatched in the history of humanity.

Actually, "living" is probably the wrong word to use there.

In that spirit of thanks, Tool Run participants across the country this year will pause for a moment of silence to honor Jdimytai Damour, the Wal-Mart employee trampled to death under a frenzied crowd of Tools desperate to get rid of their money in 2008.

Not really. There will be absolutely no recognition of what happened to Mr. Damour tonight. Except possibly among the people who loved him.

"Unless you come from the dark place inhabited by these people's souls, the significance of the Tool Running can be hard to understand" said Dr. Glen Nealon, author of GET YOUR HANDS OFF THAT DVD PLAYER!! Tools And The Ascension Of Consumption As The Basis Of The Modern Economy "In the absence of meaningful relationships based on caring and consideration, worthy cultural outlets, or any other type of intellectual stimulation, the life of a Tool soon devolves into a search for meaning through competition for material symbols of status, and they are willing to risk almost anything to fill the vast void of nothingness that is their existence."

"HOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!! I'M GONNA GET ME A PLAY STATION FOR SEVENTY-FIVE BUCKS!!!!!" said local Tool Jacob Hatfield, who said he had been waiting in front of a Target store for 36 hours. He also added that if we even thought about barging in line in front of him, we could expect to be cut.

Reached in the eternal glory that is heaven, the almighty Jesus sobbed softly when asked for comment.

From The Pages Of Pills-A-Go-Go. The Best Piece Of Drug Swag Ever.

It's exactly what it looks like my friends. A shit-inspiring CD from the makers of the country's leading vegetable laxative. Get the food a-flowing with tunes from REO Speedwagon, Toto, Eddie Money and Rick Springfield.

What do you suppose those bands had to do to get onto their record company's literal shit list? BRRRRAAAAAHAHHHAAAHHHHAAAHHAAAAAA.........

Anyway, like I said, I got the tip to this little gem from Pills-A-Go-Go. Which I'm starting to think just may be the best book ever. You can buy a copy of both book and CD from Amazon. At least for now. 'Cause I just snapped up the next to last copy of the shit music.

Drugmonkey, I Love Love Love Your Book, But You Don't Write As Much Now That You're A Responsible Business Owner, What's A Person To Do?

I hear you my friends, and I feel your pain so much I went out and found another book to ease your withdraw symptoms. I love this book my friends. I. Love. This. Book. I could waste your time explaining why, or I could just put up an excerpt and let you see for yourself. From "pills-a-go-go" by Jim Hogshire.

Buy a copy of it right now.

Pill-hounds are not only the ones who hate pharmacists: practically everybody hates them. In turn, pharmacists hate everyone back and, for that brief moment when they are in charge of your medical treatment, they will jack you around out of pure spite. 

A pharmacist shuffling papers behind his altar-like counter won't look up when you arrive. He won't even grunt before he's good and ready to peer down at you and acknowledge your existence. Then he will make you talk out loud about your medical problems. Sometimes, he will challenge your prescription. Hmmmmm, you got the clap, dontcha? Prozac, eh? Don't look depressed to me. Isn't it a little early for you to be refilling this codeine? In fact, I'm not sure you should have any more codeine. He will make you grovel. That's what he lives for. 

How did the pharmacist become so odious? Does pharmacy inherently attract people who naturally seethe with inner malice while maintaining a stony facade? Are they born this way or does something happen to them? Unfortunately, there is no evidence that pharmacists have a genetic problem. Like sadistic prison guards, they are largely creations of their surroundings. Something about the job ruins them. 

THE BIG SCAM
The sadistic process of twisting a pharmacist's psyche begins in college. Pharmacy school is rough--you can't get through it without advanced calculus, chemistry and super dedication. Pharmacy school lasts at least five years. And it costs a lot. 

No one would endure pharmacy school for the chance to count pills, let alone to be hated by customers and held in contempt by doctors. So, to make students cram pharmacokinetics (which they will never use on the job), the schools tell big, outright lies. They promise that their graduates will be liked, and will hold an esteemed position in medicine, in society even. 

Students are told again and again about the high degree of trust placed upon pharmacists by patients and doctors. They see pictures of kindly people in smooth coats holding up test-tubes and being beamed at by old ladies. They are shown photocopies of a folklorish survey indicating how certain professions are trusted. Pharmacists, they see, are only a notch or two below Supreme Court Justice--and far above a doctor. 

This is the opposite of reality, of course, which just makes the hoax crueler. When you see a pharmacy student, what you are looking at is someone who just wants to be liked and valued by their community, slaving away for respectability and honor they will never get. 

THE SUCKER PUNCH
The reality of pharmacy is that it is a service industry, not much different than a dry cleaners. Pharmacists are not pillars of the community, they are pill-counters and stock boys. And respect? Please. 

Instead of being part of a benevolent triangle of medical care, the pharmacist finds himself at the butt end of an abusive process nobody likes. It probably doesn't take more than one day on the job to show a newly minted pharmacist that he or she has been tricked, and it's little wonder pharmacists are five times as likely to kill themselves than the average person, or that only psychiatrists (narrowly) finish before pharmacists in the sad race for most suicidal profession. 

Think about it: customers arrive at the pharmacy because they have been hurt or are sick. They have already made the trek to the doctor's office, lost a day of work, been kept waiting and charged a hundred bucks to spend three minutes with a doctor who hands them a piece of paper. Now they have taken the bus to the drugstore and are about to be appalled by the money they are going to shell out to this grump behind a counter so high it makes them feel like a three-year-old. They are not happy to be there. They are, in fact, quite unhappy. And nothing the pharmacist does is going to make them happy. But--too bad--the pharmacist isn't all that content himself. He's been swindled so badly he's never going to trust anyone again. 

The collision between sick, ripped-off patient and tired, ripped-off pharmacist is as predictable, and mean, as a cockfight. The customer grumbles at the pharmacist, asks some ridiculous question--or any question at all--and the pharmacist sneers and usually doesn't respond. The phone is ringing. The people standing in line start clearing their throats. The pharmacist shoots a few withering looks, then doles out the pills. Slowly. Sufficiently abased, the customer begins to limp home. The pharmacist waits for more abuse. Since old people take the most medicine, the majority of his customers are old people--cranky old people who complain about prices and ask the same stupid questions a thousand times a day. This is just more gravel in the pharmacist's shoes. 

There are no test-tubes in sight. No mortar and pestles, no hand-in-hand work with the doctor. In fact, there are no real prescriptions anymore. A clerk in a pizza joint has a more complex job than a pharmacist. Doctors prescribe ready-made medicines, often by brand name. Doctors decide if a generic can be substituted. The pharmacist just gets the right bottle of pills and starts counting. Substitute birdseed for the pills, and a competent pigeon could do your pharmacist's job. There is simply no pharmacy going on in a pharmacy. All those nights of midnight oil, learning absorption rates of alkenes into mucous membrane mean nothing now. That was just the price for a pill-selling license. And pharmacy school didn't breathe a word of this. 

Neither did the school teach any of the practical skills the pharmacist genuinely needs. They didn't teach how to run a cash register, or catch shoplifters, or even how to identify pills. Pharmacy students can draw the molecular structure of almost any drug but cannot visually ID or even name the top twenty pills they will sell. Then there's pill-counting--the most obvious part of pharmacy drudgery. Just how much organic chemistry is necessary to count pills? This is even more humiliating since the number of pills in a bottle is one of the few things a pharmacist/pigeon can screw up. It's also something the old bag snapping about high prices can and will check. 

Of course, as the years grind by under the fluorescent lights behind the silly counter, the pharmacist eventually learns all this. But it's all on-the-job, hard-gained knowledge. And in learning it, hearts are broken. All the bad land sold in Florida cannot have caused the pain a single pharmacist feels by the time you see him there among the pills. 

PILL COUNTERS VERSUS DOCTORS
Pharmacists are not taught to read doctor handwriting, which is unfortunate because all the jokes about this subject are true: most doctors really do have shitty handwriting and the inability to read it can lead to serious mistakes. People have been killed by script fuck-ups and pharmacists commonly mis-dispense drugs due to errors in reading the prescription. Then they get sued and kicked out of the business forever. The doctor, of course, is unaffected. 

So this is a very real problem. But calling the doctor's office for clarification of a prescription just makes the pharmacist a pest. The receptionist treats him like an irritant. The doctor treats him like an idiot. Should the pharmacist have any other "problems" with a prescription, he comes dangerously close to questioning the doctor's wisdom--and may incur the doctor's wrath. And doctors are often angry, angry people with a lot of resentments of their own about the way their educations turned out and the way society views them. So the brittle ego of a pharmacist will not allow him to risk calling a doctor every time he thinks there's something wrong with a script. Mostly, the pharmacist just lives with the fear and uncertainty, which only adds to his or her time-bomb-like personality.

The rest of the book is less pharmacist specific, but as the title promises, full of pill type subversive goodies. You will learn and you will laugh. You will be offended, because if a writer isn't offending someone than he is probably boring. In a prefect world you could use your APhA discount to get it. As it is though, the APhA strives for nothing but non-offensiveness, so you'll have to pay full retail .

You won't regret it one bit. You're welcome.

There's Nothing Like A Good Hatemail To Warm The Heart. But Once Again, I Have To Work With What I Can Get.

To the  hatemail bag we go.....

Yeah cry me a river about the results from shoving addictive chemicals down people throats. And pain killers require addictive chemicals right, what a load of crap. I asked a few doctors why the narcotics and everyone of them told me it's to deal with mental aspect of being in pain. Yeah because taking someone out of pain wouldn't do that right. Sanctioned drug dealers and crooked doctors. So yeah cry me a river about the results from your own actions. What a joke, have fun explaining your actions to Christ.

Dear Jesus,

Someone wrote me the other day and wanted me to explain crackheads and how we deal with them to you. I'm not sure why. Maybe they figure that as the biggest single preventable source of war, strife, suffering and misery in our society you should be brought up to date with the latest challenges in pain management. Maybe they wish they could have brought you some OxyContin™ as you were flailing up on that cross, even though it only would have helped you "deal with the mental aspect of being in pain." like all those cancer people on their deathbed who get absolutely no pain relief from the morphine. Or post-op patients who've just had their chest ripped open. Who knew there actually wasn't any way to help them. Learn something every day I guess.

Anyway Jesus, a lot of drug seekers aren't very smart. Some of them just gobble down their Norco without a thought as to what they're gonna do when they run out way sooner than they're supposed to. When you tell them they can't have any more they whine and demand you call their doctor, who usually will say to give it to them anyway. Some of them do manage to figure out how to get multiple prescriptions from different doctors, but still bring them all to the same pharmacy, thinking we don't have the power to say no. Here's the thing though Jesus, increasingly the drug seekers are right. You take your 30 day supply of Vicodin into your local chain "pharmacy" on the 15th day, and when they don't want to fill it, you just call up the consumer complaint line and raise some holy hell. More than likely you will soon have your pills, a gift card, and an official apology. More and more crackheads are figuring this out, and staying away from stores like mine, where just the other day I turned away an OxyContin seeker with literally a fistfull of cash.

Wait. I think I get it now. That money in the Oxy seeker's hand was actually "Miracle Money" of they type espoused by the Reverend Peter Popoff and so many more of your followers, and that letter writer was telling me I was destined for hell for not taking it. Well shoot. I guess when I get there I'll just go hang out with all the Third World children who starved to death before they got a chance to have a little water sprinked over their head, which for some reason a few million of your peeps think is a necessary part of getting into get into heaven. Might be a good idea to keep those children away from the Catholic priests anyway if they make it up there. Maybe you really do have some sort of divine plan.

Back to the point though Jesus, I didn't take the crackhead's money because I didn't think he had a medical need for all that OxyContin, and I as a rule don't go around filling narcotics early, even though it does make for a few nasty confrontations. At least now I know where you stand on the issue  though. And that the folks plugging away for the big three chains are your chosen people.

I'm betting they don't feel like it though. Maybe next month you could give them all a Christmas dinner out of two fish or something to show how much you care.

Later,

Drugmonkey

Before We Start This Again Ms. Help Desk Lady, I Have One Question For You....

...do you know what happens to liars? Do you? Because I think you're about ready to find out.

You told me the problem with the claim was a bad NPI number. You sounded very certain, almost like you were swearing you spoke the truth.

I'm glad you didn't actually swear though, because bad things happen to people who break oaths, at least if you buy all the Jesus stuff that so freely floats around this country.

I believed you because you were in a position of trust. I hung up and went to the information superhighway to look up a new NPI number (by the way, for those of you who don't know, you can look up NPI numbers in seconds online, but it requires your employer to treat you like an adult and allow you internet access. Good luck with that. You can do a lot of stuff online to make your workday easier. You might want to think about taking a tablet to work)

I put in the new NPI and......got the exact same reject. How could I not feel betrayed? I came to you for guidance Ms. Help Desk Lady, and you threw my good intentions and trust down a rathole.

I only want to get this Celebrex paid for. I'm not greedy. A little over my acquisition cost will be fine.

What I got instead was another in a long line of emotional manipulations by the women in my life. I thought it would be different with you. I suspect the real problem is you need a prior auth and you knew that all along.

Why don't women ever tell you what they really need?

So when I call again Ms. Help Desk Lady, you can toy with me once more, use me as your plaything for your amusement. Or you can do the right thing. I'm not hopeful.

I'm even starting to suspect my call isn't very important to you at all. As I rot on hold.

With Apologies To Bill Maher, New Rule. You're Perfectly Free To Hate Obamacare, But....

....you have to pick a reason that's ACTUALLY TRUE. Because if you hate something for a reason that is false, you look really stupid.

Like when the people at your counter started complaining last year that they weren't getting the yellow Norco anymore and it must be because of Obamacare. Someone who would say something like that is a demonstrable idiot, and you know it wherever you fall on the political  spectrum. I'm trying here to keep you from looking like that guy. Doing you a favor really. You should thank me.

Thank me even though it may seem at first like I'm being a bit condescending. Stick with me though, because the journey to a reality-based reason to hate Obamacare  is fraught with peril. You may be making an effort to educate yourself about the issue by tuning into what passes for TV news in this country these days, and while that effort should be commended, sadly, it is not enough. Watching the shout shows is likely to leave you convinced that Obamacare is a threat to the sacred free enterprise system itself, as it becomes obvious that small business across the nation have been crippled under the weight of onerous regulation. Here's what an actual journalist wrote about the experience:

I happened to turn on the Hannity show on Fox News last Friday evening. “Average Americans are feeling the pain of Obamacare and the healthcare overhaul train wreck,” Hannity announced, “and six of them are here tonight to tell us their stories.” Three married couples were neatly arranged in his studio, the wives seated and the men standing behind them...

For those of you unaware, Hannity is one of the leading current affairs commentators on the television today. His ratings the envy of many an aspiring journalist.

As Hannity called on each of them, the guests recounted their “Obamacare” horror stories: canceled policies, premium hikes, restrictions on the freedom to see a doctor of their choice, financial burdens upon their small businesses and so on. 

“These are the stories that the media refuses to cover,” Hannity interjected.

Well they certainly are covering it now. Hannity is on the Fox News Network, on which millions of Americans depend for their information. He is the very essence of today's mainstream media. Back to the journalist:

I decided to hit the pavement. I tracked down Hannity’s guests, one by one, and did my own telephone interviews with them. 

First I spoke with Paul Cox of Leicester, N.C. He and his wife Michelle had lamented to Hannity that because of Obamacare, they can’t grow their construction business and they have kept their employees below a certain number of hours, so that they are part-timers. 

Obamacare has no effect on businesses with 49 employees or less. But in our brief conversation on the phone, Paul revealed that he has only four employees. Why the cutback on his workforce? “Well,” he said, “I haven’t been forced to do so, it’s just that I’ve chosen to do so. I have to deal with increased costs.” What costs? And how, I asked him, is any of it due to Obamacare? There was a long pause, after which he said he’d call me back. He never did.

Facts. Remember when news outlets valued them?

Next I called Allison Denijs. She’d told Hannity that she pays over $13,000 a year in premiums. Like the other guests, she said she had recently gotten a letter from Blue Cross saying that her policy was being terminated and a new, ACA-compliant policy would take its place. She says this shows that Obama lied when he promised Americans that we could keep our existing policies.

Allison’s husband left his job a few years ago, one with benefits at a big company, to start his own business. Since then they’ve been buying insurance on the open market, and are now paying around $1,100 a month for a policy with a $2,500 deductible per family member, with hefty annual premium hikes. One of their two children is not covered under the policy. She has a preexisting condition that would require purchasing additional coverage for $600 a month, which would bring the family’s grand total to around $20,000 a year.

I asked Allison if she’d shopped on the exchange, to see what a plan might cost under the new law. She said she hadn’t done so because she’d heard the website was not working. Would she try it out when it’s up and running? Perhaps, she said. She told me she has long opposed Obamacare, and that the president should have focused on tort reform as a solution to bringing down the price of healthcare.

I tried an experiment and shopped on the exchange for Allison and Kurt. Assuming they don’t smoke and have a household income too high to be eligible for subsidies, I found that they would be able to get a plan for around $7,600, which would include coverage for their uninsured daughter. This would be about a 60 percent reduction from what they would have to pay on the pre-Obamacare market.

This is what I'm trying to save you from my friends. This person was so convinced by the right wing echo chamber of the evils of Obamacare that she never even bothered to look before shooting off her mouth. She was more willing to go on national TV and spread the bullshit she'd been eating than to put any effort into finding out the truth and saving 60% on her health insurance costs in the process. I bet she wants the yellow Norco because it works better.

Don't be like this person.

But what's a loyal right-wing Obama hater to do when it comes to the challenge of opposing this law using the reality based world? To be honest, I'm not sure how much I'll be able to help you here, but for the sake of a civil debate that may serve the purpose of improving our public policy, let's do a little exploring and see what we can come up with.

I guess you could say the website sucks. That is an undisputed fact. But what you're really saying if you go down that route is that you want Obamacare to work better. So even though that seems to be the only thing Congressional Republicans have left in their arsenal after their delightfully suicidal shut down the government and piss everyone off maneuver, I'm not sure how far that'll get you, even though you will be miles ahead of that Hannity moron.

Here's an idea. You could say that Obamacare was an incredible wasted opportunity to implement the reforms our healthcare system really needed. That by leaving the insurance companies that have earned the hatred of their customers through so many types of abuse in charge of coordinating health care, it is the ultimate corporate welfare law. Forcing us to give our dollars to soulless, for profit entities with no care other than getting an extra nickel per share profit over last year, when we could have used far fewer dollars to create a public, single payer system which would be far more efficient and provide better outcomes than the numbnuts at Humana and the rest of their ilk could ever dream of.

Definitely fact based. Medicare has been shown time and time again to be more efficient with your tax dollars than Humana's ilk ever is with the ones they take from your payroll check. And I don't think even Hannity could come up with a panel willing to sing the praises of their current insurance plan.

So there's your talking point for those of you used to listening to Rush and having them given to you. You hate Obamacare because it is simply corporate welfare for the companies that have been abusing their policyholders for over a generation now. Say that and you'll never look like the yellow Norco guy. Your gratitude is appreciated but not necessary. A smarter public shall be reward enough for me.

Now, go forth and be less stupid.

I Was Fascinated By This Picture For A Long Time. Then I Figured It Out.

Look at it. Seriously, take a good hard look:

What is up with that face? I've...never seen an expression like this. Is it...

Fear? The eyes don't really give off a fearful vibe.

The mouth. It's perfectly straight. Not the slightest hint of smile or frown. I don't think I've ever seen anyone pull this off while showing teeth.

It is fear. Not in him, but in me. The longer I look at this humanesque...creature? The more frightened I become.

I just tried to mimic this expression in front of the mirror for five minutes and couldn't pull it off.

WHAT IS THIS MAN'S STORY?

For awhile I thought it would be the face one might make while undergoing a prostate exam. You don't want it to look like it's painful...but honestly, you really don't want to give the appearance of pleasure either. I've heard prostate massage can be pretty hot but you wouldn't tip the medical staff to that kind of thing I wouldn't think

And, why the suit? Wait. That's my clue. The suit. I was closer when I guessed "zombie" than I realized.

A little closer inspection told me I was looking at Jason Rubin, senior manager of immunization services for Walgreen's Corp. If you're plugging away at the corner of healthy and happy this is the man cracking the whip to make sure you hit that flu shot quota.

And this, I bet, is what he looks like when he is having his metrics read to him by his boss. Right after the soul leaves his body.

The numbed-out from the inside corporate drone. It's been so long I'd almost forgotten. This picture captures it perfectly.

Poor Jason. I fear him no longer.

Holy Crap I've Been So Busy I Forgot It's Been Over A Year Now Since The Fuckers At Rite Aid Have Had Any Power Over Me.

Since they forced me to make the best decision of my life. It's been a year and a couple months actually and what's embarrassing isn't how my time at the chain that keeps it personal ended. What's embarrassing is that I degraded myself by submitting to their power for so long.

Because this is the kind of thing they did with that power. Twisted the arm of educated professionals to fill prescriptions that everyone knew, or should have known, had no business being filled.

Not that Rite Aid had a monopoly on this. Both Walgreen's and CVS have run into far bigger problems for pushing obscene amounts of narcotics in the state of Florida. How embarrassing. For the people there deluding themselves by trying to maintain a veneer of professionalism in those sweatshops.

To those I left behind in the chains and to the person at corporate headquarters who's paid to do a Google search for "Rite Aid" every morning and will come across this post I say... it doesn't have to be like this. You do not have to sell your self respect for a fat paycheck that is destined to get smaller as the pharmacist surplus turns into a glut. You have no idea how good it feels to wake up in the morning and not be beholden to their bullshit. I work harder, and for far longer now than I ever did back then. But I have a bottle of scotch in the cupboard that I haven't felt the need to touch for months. And my self respect. And I haven't slept away a day for over a year now. Because now the days mean something to me.

It is deeply embarrassing it took me so long to stop being a coward.

To those of you left behind, it doesn't have to be like this.

__________________________________________________

Original Blogpost Air Date, January 25, 2009

Updated: I Am Fucking Tired, So The Quality Of This Post Will Suck. But I Feel Bad For Teasing You. My Personal Story Of Trying To Do The Rite Thing.

Because at work I like to keep things personal.

I think most of us in the profession can agree that making an effort to not have our customers become addicted to benzodiazapines would be the Rite thing to do. Our duty as health care professionals even. I think we can all agree on that.

At least I thought we could all agree on that. Evidently there is at least one exception. My Pharmacy District Manager, with whom I really don't have a personal relationship. I've never met him. He was of no Aid to me when I tried to do the Rite thing though. Benzodiazepines are high markup items, so maybe he's thinking the company needs the money. He could be right about that part.

Customer wanted a refill of temazepam that was filled 4 days ago for a 90 day's supply. While the other pharmacy was being contacted to confirm said 90 day supply was indeed picked up, the customer EXPLODES, and contacts the corporate office. She managed to find the Rite number to call without much Aid.

It's taking awhile to confirm the 90 day prescription. It was dispensed from a big mail-order outfit. I don't have to tell you what it's like to navigate through an organization like that to even find a person, much less one whose head is not up their ass.

I should say at this point I am asleep while all this is happening. I usually sleep until around 2 in the afternoon.

I should also say at this point the Pharmacy District Manager ORDERED THE OTHER PHARMACIST TO FILL THE PRESCRIPTION. Ordered the other pharmacist to dispense a 30 day supply of a controlled, habit forming medication when there was reason to believe a 90 day supply may have been dispensed 4 days before. A Pharmacy District Manager ordered this, which makes me think he may not be the Rite man for the job. Or perhaps he needs some Aid in his position.

The other pharmacist buckles. Don't blame her. She's here on an H-1 visa and if she's fired she's deported. She's also a good person and perhaps the best pharmacy manager I've ever worked for.

In stumbles the Drugmonkey in a caffeine-deprived haze. The other pharmacist is upset and doesn't want to talk about it, then leaves. At this point, the refill Rx has been filled, just as the District Manager ordered, and is ready to be picked up. The staff fills me in on the situation.

Step 1) Grab that refill off the shelf and make sure it ain't going nowhere.

Step 2) Sharpen the Drugmonkey claws.

I called the large mail-order operation and found someone with their head nowhere near their ass. There is a person working at a large mail-order operation whom if I ever meet in the real world, I will take out for dinner and as many drinks as they'd like. They were able to confirm delivery of the 90-day package and that it was signed for. As Kramer would say, Giddyup.

Oh, and the two prescriptions were from two different doctors.

I called the customer to tell her we would be unable to fill her 30 day refill request. You know what the customer said? The crazy customer who went ballistic only hours earlier?

"I understand. Thank you for calling."

Do you know what my District Manager said when I told him this? After putting me on hold for half an hour? That we still didn't have the power to deny the customer an early refill. My conversation with the customer was far more rational than the conversation I had with my District Manager. That's the saddest part of this whole episode.

The conversation with the District Manager quickly devolved into a semi-screaming match, at the end of which I reminded my District Manager there was a poster in every pharmacy in the state of California that spells out in clear terms the circumstances under which a pharmacist can refuse to fill a prescription. Preventing harm to the patient is one of them.

"Send me what this poster says in an e-mail" Said The District Manager who has sent out dozens of e-mails to every store he manages telling them the exact place to hang these posters. This was his way of blowing me off and ending the phone conversation.

My first thought was that my District Manager was a rookie under pressure from above to kiss customer ass who had a decision to make and blew it. After this phone conversation however, I realized I was wrong. He is a smug, arrogant, cocky power hungry bastard who has turned this into a pissing contest for no other reason than the need to feel his dick is bigger. He also is not an unintelligent man, which concerns me. I'm used to District Managers being kinda dumb and overwhelmed.

At any rate, I spent Friday in a nasty flame war with my District Manager. If I get fired, maybe I'll publish some of what I wrote here. There's some good stuff in there.

That's where it stands at the moment. A District Manager for a major pharmacy corporation maintains he has the power to order pharmacists to give out early refills of controlled medications.

Again I ask you Dear Readers, who the fuck needs cable? There is drama all around. I'll keep you posted.

Update 1/30- After almost a week, the District Manager decided to say he did not, in fact, order the other pharmacist to fill anything. The other pharmacist had documented in the patent's profile notes, however, that the DM did indeed order her to fill the early 30 day refill. Determined not to let him slip out of this, I sent an e-mail to the DM pointing this out, and thanking him for teaching us the importance of documentation. A meeting was held between myself, the other pharmacist, and the DM. The District Manager claims it was a case of miscommunication. The other pharmacist maintained she most certainly felt as if she was being ordered to fill this prescription. I made the District Manager look me in the eye and say he did not have to power to force a pharmacist to fill a prescription against his or her professional judgement. Outcome acceptable. Situation stable. For now.