The Butt of Today's Joke

***As a warning, this post mentions the word "butt" in context.  Decide now if this post is okay for you to read.  In order to avoid raising this post to a PG13-rating,  I'm going to omit the name of a male body part.  I will indicate the place in the conversation where name of said part was removed, however. Also removed from this post is an expletive that starts with the letter "S".  I'm going to write "shoot" instead. I have left the word "hell" right where it belongs, however.***

A distraught-looking older man approached the consultation window to ask the pharmacist's opinion on what he should do to take care of a particular problem he was having.  Here's the conversation:
Man: I'm...shoot...I'm having a problem when I go to the bathroom.
Me: What's the problem?
Man: Shoot...I can't...I can't go
Me: You can't urinate?
Man: Shoot...aw shoot...I can't go I'm tellin' ya
Me: You mean you're trying to have a bowel movement
Man: Shoot, no
Me: So you're trying to urinate
Man: Shoot, no. There's spots in there and I can't go.  I been in the bathroom 12 times today and nothin' comes out, and it hurts like hell.
Me: So this is when you're trying to have a bowel movement?
Man: Not necessarily.  Shoot!
Me: So it hurts when you're trying to urinate? When you're trying to pee?
Man:  Hell no! Shoot...I'm tellin' ya I've been trying to go all day and it just...nothin' comes out...
Me: So you're constipated?
Man: Shoot!
Me: Where does it hurt?
Man: When I go in the bathroom and I try to go nothin' comes and there's spots and hell, I been in there 12 times today!
Me:  Is this when you're trying to pee?!?!?
Man: SHOOT!!! NOOOOO!!! It hurts!!!!!
Me: Where does it hurt?
Man: When I go to the bathroom?
Me: Which body part?
Man: SHOOT!!!!
Me: Which body part?
Man: It just hurts when I try to go.
Me: Does it hurt in your [insert name of male body part here]?
Man: Shoot, no, it hurts in my BUTT!!!

This post is #47 why I could never be a medical doctor.  I was entertained, but SHOOT!

Even MORE Fun With Office Staff

As I've stated before, sometimes I go long periods without posting on my blog because there's just too much to write about.  Today, I'm going to write about things that are fresh on my mind.  They aren't the most exciting stories, but they'll have to suffice. I worked at an out-of-town pharmacy this week, and the following stories relate to my time there.

#1: Do you know what the drug Coumadin is? It's sometimes referred to as "rat poison", mostly because...it is rat poison.  It is an anticoagulant, so whoever/whatever ingests it gets their/its blood "thinned".  Humans who are placed upon this medication are closely monitored, because if a person takes too much, they may bleed to death.  If a person at risk for blood clots takes too little, the reverse is true, and the person could die from complications related to that.  Anyway, this story is getting long, so I'll move on.  I just wanted to stress that this medication is serious stuff. 

A doctor's office sent over a prescription for Coumadin 4mg tablets, take 2 tablets twice daily for one month with 5 refills.  That's 16 milligrams daily, okay?  Now, Coumadin tablets range from 1mg to 10mg each.  It's rare that someone needs to even take 10mg for more than a week, or even a few days.  Also, the medication is only supposed to be taken once daily. I was concerned about the high dose, so I called the doctor's office.  I spoke with a nurse who told me that the prescription was indeed wrong, and that the patient was to take 2mg daily.  I verified, "So you said 2mg once a day?"  She responded, "Yes, 2mg twice daily."  I clarified, "Oh, you want her to be on 2mg twice daily?" She responded again, "Yes, 4mg once daily."  I don't consume alcohol, so I couldn't figure out what was happening.  I clarified once more, and she stated that 2mg twice daily was the correct dose.  I said, "Why don't we just say 4mg daily then?" She seemed fine with that and I hung up.  Moments later, we received another fax for 4mg, to be taken twice daily.  If you'd like to know the outcome of this patient and you need Coumadin therapy for any reason, like an upcoming surgery, be sure to consult me so I can give you this doctor's phone number.  Don't knock it 'til you try it. 

#2: Someone (a nurse or receptionist) from a doctor's office called and got upset because she stated, "It's ridiculous that all your pharmacies have the same phone number."  I questioned her to find out exactly what she meant.  There are thousands of pharmacies owned by this particular chain where I was working, and I explained that to her.  She then stated again that it was confusing to customers and doctor offices to have the same phone number for them all.  You can't argue with stupidity, so I told her we'd work on that and wished her a lovely day. 

Do You Want Fries With That?

At one of my work locations there's a drive-thru window. Drive-thru windows at pharmacies are my favorite (insert loads of sarcasm), because a window conveys to the customer the message: We will have you in and out in less than 5 minutes! (Unless a person is used to getting their fast food from Dairy Queen or Arby's, for example, then a window gives a more acceptable message: We will have you in and out in less than 20 minutes.) Anyway, there's always something crazy going on at that blasted drive-thru window. Last week a car decided to enter from the wrong direction. Then another car came and entered from the right direction. Neither one wanted to back up. Why? They each thought they had done things the proper way. Now, is it just me thinking it makes sense to enter a drive-thru so that the driver side is next to the window? Perhaps you agree; however, it most certainly did not make sense to The Braid Brigade on that particular day.

There's Candy In That There Bottle

A very irate woman came to the pharmacy the other day to accuse us of giving her something other than her prescribed medication. It wasn't that we were giving her the wrong medication. The accusation was that we pocketed the medication that was meant for her and instead filled her bottle with candy. She brought us her prescription bottle to prove it. Sure enough, it was filled with candy. We explained to her that it was not a practice of our pharmacy to switch medications, such as her temazepam (a narcotic sleep aid) with candy. After several minutes, we finally got her to believe us. Then we asked her the usual questions when we get a complaint of this nature: "Do you live alone? Where do you keep your medications in your house? Have you traveled anywhere with your medication?" Everything seemed to check out. We kept pressing, "Are you sure nobody has been in your house?" She assured, "I'm positive. I live alone, and I'm the only one that uses the bathroom where these pills are kept." Then she said, "My grandkids were here this weekend. Maybe I'll check with them to see if they noticed anything unusual. I asked them if my medication looked like candy to them, and they thought it looked like regular pills, but I knew there was something different about it." Of course those teenage grandkids thought it looked normal.

The Braid Brigade

So there are these people...hmmm...I'm trying to figure out a way to explain them without upsetting an entire religion or isolated community. They won't read my blog anyway, right? Still, I'm a careful sort. Let's say that these people wear their Sunday clothes and not their Sunday shoes. Do you know this quote by Victor Hugo? --- "The greatness of a people is no more determined by their numbers than the greatness of a man is by his height." --- Not true for these peeps. One might say the greatness of the women in this particular group is determined by the height of their hair. (For future reference, because there will be many stories involving the aforementioned people, they will be from this point forward known as "The Braid Brigade".)

Before I share any tales from The Braid Brigade, I'll tell you why 80% of our business now comes from them. They used to have their own pharmacy in their little town, until one day the pharmacist out there mysteriously disappeared. The doors were locked, the lights were off, and the answering machine played a lovely message where the pharmacist thanked all his customers for the many good years spent serving them. He was just...gone. His house was dark and empty. His cell phone was shut off. Nobody from that community spoke his name. It's a mystery, but I'll tell ya what isn't a mystery. The reason is clear why they started coming to the pharmacy I currently call home. We accept Arizona Medicaid (and a few other pharmacies in the area are no longer taking it)! Hurrah!!! Okay, now that I've set the scene, prepare yourselves for some good stories...

It's Been A While...But Drugs Will Do That To You

Due to the infrequency of my posts, one might start to assume that perhaps I've run out of material. This is definitely not the case. Quite the opposite is true. There are just too many things to share, and sadly, I have slacked in providing my loyal readers with their regular fix of druggy goodness. The majority of my pharmacy time this past year has been spent at a pharmacy quite different in nature and clientele than the pharmacy of years past. Lucky for you, this new location has provided me with a whole different set of loony things/people to write about. I will elaborate further on another day most definitely, but for now I will just do what I always do --- tell a story.

We have a couple of regular customers, husband and wife. Sometimes they come in together; sometimes they come in alone. One day the wife had sent the husband to pick up her prescriptions. Here's where it always gets a bit tricky. HIPAA regulations prevent us from giving out a person's prescription information, even to a spouse, over the phone (or in person). If a spouse calls or comes in to refill a prescription for the husband or wife, law prevents us from listing off medications that can be refilled. The person needs to know the name of the medication in order to refill it for their special someone. If the spouse is at the pharmacy to pick up prescriptions for the husband or wife, I know of no such law that says that the spouse needs to name the specific medications that are already filled and ready. Anyway, this fella came in and said his wife should have three or four prescriptions ready, like some hormone thing, and a couple of blood pressure drugs. We then asked, "There is indeed a fourth one. You want to get her Xanax now too?" Wrong question. His face immediately turned red and he yelled, "What?!?! What do you mean her Xanax TOO?" We didn't take that as a clue and we restated, "Yes, there's a Xanax here. Four prescriptions, is that correct?" He said he'd leave that one, and then he took off. What seemed like seconds later, I had an angry wife on the phone yelling at me that I had ruined her marriage. She "used to" be addicted to Xanax and had serious problems with taking too much and lying about it in the past, and now her husband thinks she's up to her old tricks. They just had moved back in together after a trial separation caused by her lies and drugginess. She had promised him that she was no longer involved with that type of medication. She rambled off a whole string of threats to me, as I was one responsible for the shambles her marriage was now in. She admitted to me, however, that she did in fact send her husband to pick up her other medications. I guess she's not really THAT good at lying and hiding things from the hubby. Still...it's my fault o' course. I didn't realize I could impact lives in such a way. Hopefully one day I'll learn to use this power for good.