Mothers Movie

Recall the story of the two mothers? Well, I've decided to turn it into a made-for-tv movie. The written version of the story is 100% accurate; however, for entertainment purposes, I had to add a few extra lines. Enjoy the show!

Something Borrowed

One of my pharmacist friends, who lives in another state, shared this conversation she had with a customer the other day:

Customer: Yes, we named our baby "Maybe".

Pharm Friend: Interesting. Why Maybe?

Customer: 'Cause maybe it was going to be a girl.

Pharm Friend: ...

Sometimes words can't be found.

Every Clever Title I Can Think Of Has The Word "Porno" In It

Prescription medications cost money. How much money? It depends. Who pays for it? It depends. How many different ways can people complain about it? I'm here to tell you I've lost count. Today's customer, however, used a new term to explain her exasperation. When I quoted her the amount of her medication (~$60, which is pretty low considering it was a medication to save her life and many people pay far more than that), she exclaimed, "The cost is just pornographic! My congressman is going to hear about it today!" Your congressman is going to hear about the pornographic cost of prescription drugs? Well, now that it's been described that way, perhaps I'll give my congressperson a call as well.

Another Addition Edition

A patient requested a transfer of her controlled substance from another pharmacy. As I was about to pick up the phone, I noticed the label on the bottle from the other pharmacy said, "Must last 13 days", and it was last filled on the 14th. When this is written on a label, it's usually there by prescriber order. So, I called the patient over to inform her that I wouldn't be able to fill it until tomorrow and asked her if she still wanted me to transfer it. She responded, "Oh really? Why can't you fill it?" I said, "The doctor said it needs to last 13 days." She smartly replied, "Well that's funny, because I could swear on the paper I have a home that it says 14 days." Surely nobody is that stupid, but I took advantage by saying, "Really? That means I can't fill it until the 28th then." As I was being entertained by the puzzled look on her face, she quickly said, "I mean, 13 days, but it's the 13th day today, right?" Actually, no. I did one of my classic "this plus this equals that" comments, and said, "You filled it on the 14th, and 14 plus 13 is 27." She took her bottle back and asserted that she'd just go back to where she got it filled last, because certainly they would fill it for her. That's only if they have similar trouble with addition.

Sarcasm Can Backfire

A man picked up his 30-day prescription. As he walked away, he looked inside his bag, walked over to the pharmacist window, and said, "Hey, you screwed up. This is supposed to be 90 days." I informed him the insurance would only pay for 30 days. He told me he spoke with someone "special" at his insurance, and they were going to do an override so he could get the 90 days. Anyway, I'll condense this story by saying that he was confused. He was talking to the mail order service, and of course he could get 90 days through them, but his insurance only allows 30 days when prescriptions are filled in a retail setting. Because we go the extra mile at the ol' pharmacy, one of my technicians told the man she would call the insurance just to verify. While she was on the phone with the insurance, another customer required my assistance. Since there was nothing more I could assist with at that moment, I excused myself from the man and the tech and said she'd have an answer soon, and as I walked a way, the man said, "Oh yeah. Don't bother helping me. Just walk away and do nothing because I wasn't here first. I don't matter." I just said "Okay" (very sweetly, of course).

Long Story

A girl I know from my hometown occasionally comes to my pharmacy to get her prescription(s) filled. She doesn't live here, but she gets her prescriptions filled once every few months when she's passing through town. These prescriptions are usually for things like Lortab, Xanax, Restoril, and other such items of great popularity. She always acts over-excited to see me, and she usually comes in with her husband and/or children, but on one particular day, she was all alone. As I rounded the corner to approach the pharmacy for my 11:00 AM shift, she saw me, dashed over, hugged me, and proceeded to tell me how she was so glad I was there, because she needed her temazepam (generic for Restoril) transferred from a pharmacy in Las Vegas. I called the pharmacy in Las Vegas for the transfer and didn't notice anything unusual (like an attempt by her to fill the medication too early), so I filled it for her. She picked it up right away, and quickly left. About 30 minutes later I received a phonecall from her husband. He asked if his wife had "already stopped by the pharmacy". All I told him was that he just missed her. Since I've filled prescriptions for him before as well, I figured he wanted me to fill something and have her pick up his medication while she was at that pharmacy. Wrong! Shortly after my brief conversation with him, I received a phonecall from this girl, who sounded quite panicked. "Um Kristin?" she began, "My husband just called to see if I picked up a prescription and you gave him the impression that I did, but will you just tell him that I didn't pick anything up? Will you just confirm with him that I came by to say hello and to pay for the hairspray I bought? He's right here. Will you just confirm that with him? That I didn't pick anything up?" Then he came on the line. I'd never been put on the spot like that before. HIPAA regulations, though a pain to work through sometimes, would save my bacon on this phonecall. I told him that I could neither confirm nor deny that she picked anything up, but I could tell him that I did indeed see her purchase hairspray. At that point I realized my original conversation with him was a trap. Anyway, the dumb girl had shown him her receipt from the pharmacy to prove that she purchased hairspray. What else was on that receipt? Yeah, that's right. There was a charge with a prescription number attached to it. After I got off the phone with him, she called me again to say that what I told him wasn't good enough. I was to tell him flat out that she DID NOT pick anything up, and that the charge for the prescription on the receipt was a mistake. She told me her husband was on his way down to the pharmacy to dispute that charge, and she wanted me to refund him that money and she would just stop back by later to repay me for the medication. Wow, this was turning into a mess. Well, about 20 minutes later, her husband showed up. I told him I couldn't say what medication that prescription number was tied to. I told him that since I hadn't rung up her merchandise in the register, that I couldn't really confirm what she had left the pharmacy with. I mean, I really could confirm, but I didn't want to be involved! Too late. After it seemed like he bought my avoidant explanation, he told me he originally called me because his wife has been in and out of rehab for abuse of temazepam, and his question to me was a trick. He explained his great love for her and his desire to help her stay off the addictive substance. I felt his sincerity. He had worked in a pharmacy for years, and he knew he could call the automated system and enter a prescription number to see if it was filled and ready. He said he knew the minute he got in the shower that morning that he figured she'd sneak out and try to fill a prescription. Great. He told me that he knew I couldn't give him any information, but he just thought he owed me an explanation. Moments after he left, I got another phonecall from the girl. She was panicked...again. She then explained the rehab thing to me and told me that this was the only ONLY time she tried to fill this prescription and that she wasn't even going to take any. She said her husband was on his way home to "drag me down there" to "prove I didn't pick anything up" and to "look at my prescription history." Why me? She wanted me to falsify some prescription history records before they came back down. She said he'd divorce her if he knew she picked up temazepam today, which I knew wasn't true. Anyhow, I weighed my options. I could drum up some more "politician answers" for him when they came back together, or I could hide somewhere in the store. I chose the second option. I figured the break room in the back of the store would afford me the protection I needed. Minutes passed, and I received a phonecall from a technician in the pharmacy. She informed me, "They're here and they're asking for you, and I don't think they're going anywhere until they talk to you." Okay, so option #2 was out. I walked slowly back to the pharmacy, and they both approached me as I arrived. She started, "Kristin, I told him you would print out my prescription history (wink, wink) and that you would tell him once again that I didn't pick up any medications today." The free Barbie she had given me when I was 6 flashed in my mind. Was this the price I had to pay for a Barbie? I realized then that Barbie wouldn't want me to lie. Psychologist Barbie would want me to say, "Look, your husband loves you. I didn't help you at the register, and I haven't really researched the information in the computer to see if it was indeed picked up. That's something you'll have to discuss with your husband, WITHOUT me. He loves you. What would make you doubt that? He wants to protect you and his children, so why don't I make a printout of your actual prescription history, and you can talk to him about it." She didn't get it, because she said, "Oh, okay. (Wink Wink) Go ahead and print out my history." Well, I printed out her actual history, handed it over, and watched the fireworks. It turns out there were several other times she picked the stuff up besides today. Oops! They had a little scene, but it all ended with him handing back the information and telling her it didn't matter about the past, and that he wanted the truth from this moment on. Well, I wish I had a real ending for this story. I haven't seen them for many, many months, so hopefully she stopped sneaking around. Yeah, let's pretend that's the ending to the story.

If I Were Psychic, This Job Would Be Easier

A woman called to inform me that a prescription had been called in to the pharmacy the day before and that she was told by some "incompetent kid" that she would not be able to pick it up because "my doctor needs to call the insurance or something like that for a prior authorization or something." Yes, it probably was a prior authorization that prevented her from getting the medication right away. She said that since I was the pharmacist, she was just sure I could get the insurance to cover the medication so she could get it today. I needed more information from her, so I asked for her name. I attempted to find her in the database and had no success. I tried to look her up by name, date of birth, phone number, etc., but I was just not finding her. I told her that I couldn't locate the prescription information anywhere, and I asked her if she was sure it had been called in yesterday. She said, "Yes, of course it was. That's just what I finished telling you about!" I confessed I still had no clue about the prescription in question. "Well, it was called in and someone told me I had to wait for the insurance to approve it." I questioned her again, "Are you positive it was called in here yesterday?" She finally exclaimed, "No, it was called in to Walgreens! Don't you know that?" Um, yeah, my real name is Sylvia Browne.

Another Non-Funny Story With Advice At The End

A girl approached the drop-off window to turn in her new insurance card. As she stood there, the technician could see the girl looked pale. She asked the girl if she'd like to have a seat while we worked on the insurance. The girl declined the offer, but asked for a drink of water. The technician headed to retrieve some water when the other technician at that window heard the girl mention she didn't feel well, and she noticed the color leave her face. The technician quickly dashed out the door to attempt to rescue the fainting girl, but she was a few inches too short. I heard a loud thud, ran over, and saw a girl on the ground. The sound I heard was that of her head hitting the tile floor. Anyway, she was attended to immediately, but she refused medical care. When questioned about her medical history, she stated she donates plasma twice a week and never eats before or after the donation. Today was no different. So, if you donate blood or plasma, eat some food. Don't be a dummy. You'll become more of a dummy if your head meets tile.

It's not an "accidence" if it happens twice...or more

Okay, I'm kind of bombarding ya'll with posts, but I'm in a typing mode, so here's another one. It's only intended for ages 18+ though. It doesn't mean it's R-rated or anything, but I like to be on the safe side. So one quiet Sunday, my attention was drawn to the side of the pharmacy, where I heard a young girl exclaim, "YAY! They are open." Then she proceeded to ferociously kiss her male companion, whom she sent over to the pharmacy counter (as she went and sat on the bench). Hmmm, what could this young man possibly want? "Can I buy that morning after pill stuff here?" he sheepishly asked. We sold it to him, then he went back over to the girl, and they literally skipped off. A few hours later, I received a phone call from a young man who had a question about a purchase he had made at the pharmacy that day. He began, "Uh, hi. I was in earlier like a few hours ago to buy a morning after pill or Plan B or whatever it's called, and well, I got it because my girlfriend and I, well...we...my girlfriend and I had relations...sexual relations or whatever, like a few hours before that. Anyway, we did it, I mean, had sex again like just barely, a couple of hours after she took the pill, and I was wondering if that pill would be enough to cover both accidences." I told him I'd never been asked that before, because usually when people need to take Plan B the first time, they're a little more cautious in the future. I told him I'd have to look that one up. I found some information about how long it would last in his girlfriend's system, and I shared that with him. He liked my answer and excitedly responded, "So you mean it'll last that long?" I immediately said, "Yes, BUT that doesn't mean you can do that as many times as you want in that period of time and be safe. You should probably call it quits or find some method of birth control for any future (I wanted to say accidences) encounters." He then said, "Okay, thank you!" and then hung up.

Do YOU know how to run a copier?

As the manager, I get to talk to all the angry people. As I've said before, it's more entertaining than you could imagine, but I have to say I've never been called "too stupid to make a photocopy" before. I picked up the phone to talk to a complainant, and before I could say my name, he asked, "Are you the idiot that runs that place?" I confirmed to him that I was indeed the manager, and then he continued, "Well I'm calling to let you know that you're the sorriest bunch of &$@* idiots and the biggest %*$*# I've ever known and you're $&*# too #$*&@ stupid to run a @#*&$% copy machine." Then I calmly responded, "I would really like to understand you and help you, but it's difficult when your message is broken up with swear words." (Since he never used the "f" word, I wouldn't have been justified in hanging up on him, so I had to let him continue.) He then went on, "Well if you had half a brain in your $&#& head you'd see what a #*&% stupid bunch of idiots you are and you can't even run a copy machine." I attempted once again to ask him what the problem was. He continued, "The problem is that you *$#&% moron can't run and copier and are too stupid to even figure out how to make a *&#&% copy." Hmmm, I could see this was going to be a tricky complaint to get to the bottom of. He finally was able to come up with a wider vocabulary to explain that we didn't copy the worker's compensation information he'd brought in, so when he sent his friend to pick up his prescriptions and he was charged full price, he figured it was because we didn't have his worker's comp info on file correctly, and not because worker's comp didn't cover his Viagra and allergy medication. I explained that to him, and I asked if I could get his other insurance info to see if his regular insurance would at least cover the allergy medication. He said, "You can't help me. It's too &#%! late because [my friend] already left." In my most sickly sweet voice I responded, "Well I can certainly try to help. I could get the insurance information and then mail your medication. Would that help?" His final answer was, "No! What would help is if you taught your &#*% workers how to run a *#*!@ copy machine!" Okay, will do.

"So I won't wanna hurt people?"

So there's this lady that has been calling me almost every day I work, and it's never just once a day. Once she finds out I'm there, she is relentless. I really should have been posting our phone conversations, but I will just try to remember some of the things we've talked about, and periodically I'll post a conversation as I remember it. Picture a boxy woman in her late 40's to early 50's with fried shoulder-length hair, fried skin, expressionless face, and a nasally monotone voice. She's actually in her 30's, but hopefully you have a good picture now. My first encounter with her dealt with an anti-depressant medication her doctor placed her on. It's brand name is Celexa, and the generic name is citalopram. She called to ask me, after taking it for a day, if she should keep taking it, because it wasn't working. I reassured her that she needed to keep taking it to feel better. She kept asking, "How sure are you? Like 100 percent sure? Or not really sure?" I repeatedly told her, "Like 100 percent sure." After a few hours or a few days, she called back to ask my opinion on something. She asked, "If you needed to take an anti-depressant, which one would you take?" Since I recognized her voice, and since she didn't remember that I was the pharmacist that had urged her to take her medication DAILY about 46 times, I immediately responded, "Oh, I'd take citalopram. It's the best, and I would take it every day." She questioned, "Really? Really that one? Why?" Anyway, this went on for months. During one phone conversation I noticed she hadn't refilled citalopram for a few months, yet the questions still were about that medication. She still was asking, "What's the best anti-depressant?" and "Are you sure if I keep taking it I'll feel better? I've been taking it for a few months and it isn't working." Then I kept reminding her that it needs to be taken EVERY DAY. She then asked, "So you're saying I should take it every day? If I take it every day, will it make it so I don't wanna hurt people?" Yes! Too bad the medication, if taken every day, won't make her stop bothering people.

And The Award For Originality Goes To...

Here's a unique story for why someone needed an early refill of a controlled substance. I thought I'd heard everything until this doozy of a story. So this woman called and needed her Lortab AND Xanax filled early because she was leaving town to go to Florida, and she couldn't just get it transferred to Florida while she's there because since a controlled substance can only be transferred once, she didn't want to waste a transfer, because she couldn't get a hold of her doctor to phone in a new one when she got back from Florida because he was out of town for an indefinite amount of time because he was visiting his sick mother who can't drive, and he doesn't even live in Utah anyway, so that option was OUT. Whew! Anyway, she was headed to Florida because her boyfriend's best friend died in a motorcycle "accident", and they wanted to go to Florida to check things out, because "they" are calling it a suicide because the guy left some note, but she and her boyfriend don't think it's a suicide. Why? Well, it's because the guy is not a note writer, AND the note didn't say ANYTHING about wanting to commit suicide, and get this! --- He doesn't even own a motorcycle. She bets somebody drugged him and stuck him on a motorcycle to make it look like an accident or suicide. Why? She's not sure, and that's why they have to go to Florida on such short notice. The END.

Employee of the Month

As I was leaving work tonight, I was approached by the door greeter. We conversed as follows:

Door Greeter: Whoa, do you have a receipt for that water?

Me: (While holding a huge 99 cent bottle of water, 1/4 full). Uh...no...I don't think so.

DG: Well, you really need a receipt.

Me: I'm pretty sure I don't have one, because I've been drinking from this for a couple of days.

DG: (With a look of concern in her eyes). Hmmm...would [the receipt] be in your purse? Hold on, I need to radio for someone to ask about this.

Me: I brought this from home with me to work this morning.

DG: Oh, you work here?

Me: I'm the pharmacy manager.

DG: (nervous giggle) Um, okay.

I think this woman should be commended for her attempt to prevent an alleged theft, even though the value of item equalled 1 dollar or less. Also commendable is the fact that she couldn't be accused of profiling, since I was dressed in my "pharmacist outfit", minus the white coat. When she asked if I had the receipt, I really wish I would have said, "Of course I don't have a receipt, because I didn't pay for it." Then I would have walked out. I really wanted to make it home in good time to see my little family though, so I opted out of the trouble-making option.