Cussed Out Geriatrically...Again

Warning: Another cuss word is found within this post

Oh, this story is far too long and much too complicated to explain, so I'll give a brief summary. An 86-year-old woman, bless her heart, was prescribed Fentanyl patches (something generally used in chronic pain management).  She had been given a 15-day supply, and then about 5 days later on a Friday, she started to harass me for more.  Since she is somewhat confined to her house, we told her we'd help get the prescription from the doctor and then deliver the patches to her house. She wasn't out of patches yet though, so don't be worrying that she was using too many and overdosing.  She said she didn't actually need them that day, or the next day, or even in the many days to follow.  She was just worried that we "bunch a idiots" wouldn't get it taken care of in time.  I assured her in the most polite manner that I would take care of everything and get her patches to her several days before she'd actually NEED them.  Our two or three conversations, and conversations with her home health agency whom she was also harassing, took up a good part of my day.  I worked quite hard to allay her fear that she'd run out of medication, even though the doctor was out of the office until Monday.  I promised her she'd have those patches on Monday, but at the end of my final phone conversation with her right before she hung up on me, she yelled, "Get off the phone ya sons a bitches!!!"  I wasn't at work the following Monday, but did that lady get her patches?  She sure did.  See what kind of girl I am? 

Only in California

One of my pharmacist friends had an old man almost hit her with his cane.  Then he threatened her and threatened to pee all over her pharmacy. 

Don't Read This While Consuming Food

Why did I become a pharmacist?  It's simple:

I don't like to look at oozing body sores.  I don't like to look at weird rashes on private body parts.  I don't like to look at black, bloody toenails.  I don't like to look at massive pus bubbles just inside the ear.  I don't like to look at athlete's foot.  I don't like to look at scabby white patches in a throat.  I don't like to look at rotting teeth (and I don't want to smell the breath that accompanies those rotting teeth).  I don't like to watch lice make a cozy home atop a head of hair.  I don't like to look at red, scaly patches ANYWHERE.  I don't like to look at long, brittle, yellow fingernails.  I don't like to look at warts.  I don't like to look at bumps in an armpit.

...So why have I seen all of these things at the pharmacy?  People often don't want to pay a doctor to look at this stuff, and I guess I look like I'm bored behind the pharmacy counter.  I can't/shouldn't really diagnose any problems/illnesses, but before I get a chance to explain that to patients, socks are removed, pants are unzipped, mouths are opened, and shirts are lifted up.

One day (when I was a brand new pharmacist), my parents stopped by to visit me at the pharmacy.  They waited several feet in front of the pharmacy while I was at the consultation window with a middle-aged man who was asking about a rash on what he referred to as his "area".  I was young and unafraid, so I asked him to explain further.  In the two seconds it took him to undo his belt and unzip his pants, I realized where this "area" exactly was.  Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the look of horror on my mother's face.  The word "WHOA!" slipped out of my mouth, and the man paused just before I caught sight of his entire "area".  I told him I wasn't a doctor and that we were in...um...A PUBLIC PLACE!  I kind of figured I knew what his problem was, however, so I directed him to some cream which might help this particular rash.  My poor mother.

(Note: While it's true that I became a pharmacist partly because I thought being a medical doctor, dentist, or nurse would have totally grossed me out, I decided that the entertainment value of working in a pharmacy was too great to pass by.  That's pretty much a major reason why I became a pharmacist, as evidenced by this here blog of mine.)