Out of the Woodwork, into the Pharmacy

Black Friday couldn't do it. Leopard Snuggies - child please. Slap Chop, Shoes Under, Regular Snuggies, or any other gimmick couldn't get them in the store. Something has unified a certain subtype of person. Some sudden-ish shortage has caused the mass hysteria. Supply and demand is a bitch. I'm using short sentences because they've sapped my strength, much like theirs soon will be. Who am I speaking of? Who could it be? Wanna guess? Okay, I'll give you a multiple choice chance at guessing my ever-growing new hatred:

a) Snuggies for dogs (this is an actual product - just saw it today - speechless)
b) Singing stuffed animals in Santa hats whom sing holiday songs
c) People in search of an insurance to cover Latisse
d) ARMOUR THYROID

If you didn't guess the answer, well, I guess I'll see you soon inquiring about my stock of Armour Thyroid. I don't have any, by the way, so don't ask. I'm not sure what their problem is (the people in search of the product), but they don't like to listen and also enjoy sharing how wonderful dessicated hog and cattle thyroid is.

"I've used it for years," babbled a barley audible Eisenhowerite. "I don't know what the problem is..." I could ballpark it. Heh. Ballpark.

"Well, whaat am I going to dooooo?????" blurted an exasperated sixty-something who's never been to my store before. "You haaave to get it for me." No, I don't. No, I can't.

Any time I start to suggest an alternative I get an earful. I'm told how levothyroxine is some type of voodoo medicine that is not a suitable treatment. Okay, fucktard, whathefuckever.

I for one just don't see the fascination. Firstly, it smells like if shit took a shit. Wait, I'm not done. It smells like shit's shit ate Armour Thyroid and then shit. It's the worst smelling drug I can think of (those of you thinking metformin can just stop, it's not even close). I can't imagine why dessicated animal parts wouldn't smell like the Abbott Labs trademark Jordan Almond smell.....

Secondly, it's erratic and not very easy to dose. Unless you remember how to wash your clothes using one of those board thingies. Did they even have soap then?

Lastly, leave me alone. I don't know when it going to be back in stock. Really.

"Plan Limitations Exceeded"

If you're in the profession, the title needs no introduction. If you work for Medco, the title needs no introduction. Plan Limitations Exceeded - ahhh. Roughly translated, it means that the PBM is going to flag your ass and audit you if you override too may generic zolpidem scripts for senior citizens. It's because they care about their adverse drug reactions, right? It's nice of the PBMs to put aside their corporate agendas and get down to the real issue of protecting the public health. What would happen if these old fuckers were munching on coffee grounds at three in the morning or calling Thiland at four?

Anarchy. Total chaos.

Thank God for Plan Limitations Exceeded.

I have just one question: if it's really a limitation, why does a simple '02' in the denial field make it all better (take notes all technicians)?

Thank you for patiently waiting.......still looooking.......vhat is jour NPI?

Anyone else feel like this?

I am not a sounding board.

That is what I'd like to think. People have made it a habit to call up with strange questions that have no answers. They use me as a sounding board to confirm their own postulations. This is nothing new to pharmacy, mind you, but I've noticed a steady increase in these types of people the last couple of months.



Do you want to know why? Well, I will tell you.....just as soon as I figure it out. Actually, I can't wrap my skull around why any of these mutants call me. Here's an example.



A lady calls me and drones on for about 30 seconds about how she's been to our store before, and how she picks up prescriptions and she was there last week and how it was so busy and how she got a prescription for her husband (poor fucker) and how.......WHAT'S YOUR QUESTION MA'AM? Oh....well.....my husband (poor fucker) has a cold sore. THAT'S NOT A QUESTION. WHAT'S YOU'RE QUESTION? Oh, well my husband's cold sore, uhhh, what, uhh, what's good? I'M NOT FOLLOWING. This witty repartee went on for a good little while. I don't recall how it ended, I try to block out painful memories.

So, the next time you're in the drive through and your shit's not ready, remember the lady with a question that doesn't have a question. It's not my incompetence or even the doctor's, but it's the time-waster's fault. So pull around and simmer down.

Spring Cleaning? That's a Bunch of Jibber-Jabber.

I actually don't know what jibber-jabber is. I remember Mr. T mumbling it in a commercial, though and it stuck. Anywho, a lady brought in a coupon today. Why is this significant? Aren't coupons brought in every day? How else could she save money? All valid questions, but this one was different. This coupon brought me back to a simpler time. Yes, I remember it like it was...acutally....it's a little foggy. 1988. That's right, 1988. The fucking thing EXPIRED in 1988. That means the Good Housekeeping/Family Circle/Playgirl (whatever, it was cut out - who knows) was actually circa 1987ish. Good Lord, woman, it's time to do some recycling or burning or something.

The best part is that she tried to play it off like it wasn't from Mark McGwire's rookie season. I had her, though. "Sorry, ma'am, this expired when Reagan was in office." I never thought I'd get to say those words. Babies born during that coupon can now buy alcohol. The Berlin Wall was still erect. So, I informed her the product was defunct and she was crestfallen. I'm not sure if it was because her leg cramps would continue or if because she now knew it was not 1988. I'm hoping the former, but the latter is probably a better bet.

I hava quick question....

No, you don't. That's what I'm gonna say the next time someone leans around and rudely chirps at me. You see, quick question asker, quick questions are rapid in nature. "Quickies," as I like to call them, really mean they want to waste some of your time. But, asking "Can I waste some of your time?" doesn't sound quite as enticing.

Acceptable Quick Questions:

• where's the Benadryl?
• how late are you open?
• what's the square root of 49?
• what time is it?
• what time do you open?
• and so on

UNacceptable "Quick" Questions/scenarios:

• where's the bathroom? (don't fucking ask me - just look; it's probably where there's not shit on shelves waiting to be bought. If you see a door-sized opening in the merchandise, look in there. If there's a lock with a combination key pad, you can't go in there. Another hint: it's not in the aisles)
• nothing that starts with: yeaaahhh, uhhhh, my mom said....
• nothing that starts with: yeaaaahh, uhhhh, my doctor said.....
• I was wondering if you could help me? (already again not with the quickness)
• anything pertaining to a fictitious product which may or may not help an ailment (e.g. coconut burn oil cream facewash)
• do not pause after stating you have a quick question - very common. This ensures that your inquiry is not rapid in any way, shape or form
• and so on

Changing gears, I have a beef with those whom solicit my opinion only for argument's sake. To clarify, don't ask my "expertise" only to argue with me. I know my shit and you have no idea what an antihistamine is or does. I know it's hard to trust someone with nothing to gain when the makers of the product with everything to gain market it to your ignorance. To clarify, that means that the box is a fucking liar. It is not just for allergy. It will not actually decongest. No, pseudoephedrine won't help a runny nose. No, it won't. Really. Look, if you don't choose to agree with me, then so be it. Just don't argue with me. Simply say "thanks" or "whatever" and buy what you want. It's no skin off my nose, I don't have to put up with your sniffling, stuffy, sick ass at home. If you'd like to buy a box of walking mucous with a suitcase, fine. Just know that your mucous doesn't have luggage, nor does it wear a suit nor a hat.

Remember, there are no stupid questions, just stupid people who ask them.

Let's not confuse "Eye Care" and "I Care"

...because I don't. I care in general, quite a bit, actually. I take my job seriously. I like to take the time and impart the "wisdom" I've gained in school and experience. When it comes to eye vitamins, however, it's time to roll the eyes.

Old people are the worst offenders when it comes to eye vitamins. The eye vitamins, you see, are just a bunch of crap +/- lutein. Lutein has been linked or surmised to help prevent/slow/improve/delay/lessen the progression of macular degeneration. Now I'm not saying these folks should just press on blindly. They have every right to better their vision. I just can't stand the old lady whom meanders up to the counter with armfuls of different vitamins and makes me pick the one that will help with her dry eyes.

Well, I said: I pick none of these; try the artificial tears/Systane. That went over about as well as inviting a Nazi to passover. She then went on to ask EVERY pharmacy employee which vitamin she should get - sometimes twice. Look, I don't have any vindictive agendas here, but just pick one, lady. If you read the side of the box you'll see they all have about the same shit. I'm not sure what she ended up buying.

In this section I'd like to say I care, but I have a sneaking suspicion she's still milling about the eye care section. For this old lady is always looming my friends, confused and bewildered by the Ocutives. If she doesn't buy them, I'd bet she'll play a mean pinball.

It's Like I Never Left.

Ahh, vacation. I have a love/hate relationship with vacation. I love to take it, but hate to come back from it. Now, I know that is no revelation or even original thought; we all feel that way. Pharmacists, however, encounter different scenarios every day that embed themselves in our daily fabric. You can't get this shit on vacation.

For example, I was told today by a woman she was allergic to poison ivy. I was intrigued. I hadn't had this kind of agitation or comedic relief in over a week. She had no symptoms, no rash - but had come in contact with poison ivy and was allergic. Now, those in the profession or those with a third grade education know this lady a nutbag. So, it turns out she had "contracted a bad case" of poison ivy back in the day and is now hypersensitive. So sensitive she doesn't have to even touch it to get it. She was pointing to her eye area, but nothing there but wrinkles and a pair of seemingly glassy eyes. I told her not to use the Technu in her hand, as it may harm her eyes. I should've told her it will make her eyes fall out. She'd probably buy that since she was going to treat a nonexistent rash. I think she'll be just fine.

To the old man with the vitamin dilemma: just pick one. Whether it says over 50 formula, regular formula, formula 1, cock hardening formula, twat tightening formula, whatever. They're all the same....I chose for him.

OM: Which of these is best?
ME: Are you over 50? (I must have made his day, he was 119 if he was a day)
OM: Yeah, can't you tell?
ME: Ohhh, those vitamins must be doing the trick!
OM: Heh, I guess...which one is th-
ME: The over 50 formula. It's far and away better than the others. It has just the right mix of vitamins and minerals a growing boy over 50 needs.
OM: Ohhh, golly, that sounds great.
ME: Sure does.

I've learned to just pick one. I save time and he takes vitamins - everybody wins. Everyone except for the regular vitamins, that is. Poor regular vitamins - they suck. Yes, he actually dropped a golly on me.

Coupons, Vouchers, Checks and Torture

I freaking hate drug coupons. I don't generally toss the word hate around like a Frisbee, but the makers of dermatologics and proton pump inhibitors (read: really expensive Prilosec OTC) need to check themselves. There seems to have been a recent influx of said coupons and/or vouchers with some annoying repercussions. Mostly, these things are impossible to bill.

There's always some hitch in the giddy-up with them:

• wrong person code/no person code/other person code/person code person code
• program has expired (but the rejection says something like "coupon fire limits observed/invalid doctor plans")
• coupon is expired ("but the doctor said to just give it to you and it'd be free")
• voucher/coupon is for a completely unrelated drug
• person is on some type of federal assistance - really, what's the difference? No, we as the government feel that it is imperative that people worse off than us remain worse off than us.
• the processor has changed
• the wrong pharmacy helplessdesk number is on the card
• no pharmacy helplessdesk number is on the card
• and so on

There is actually a program out there that will reduce your copay if it is 25 dollars or over and will reduce nothing if it is under 25 dollars. There is a very confusing matrix explaining this fucking nightmare (almost didn't swear - oh well). I'm not going to reveal the name of the drug, but it rhymes with schmexium. You won't find the information at furplepill.schlom, either.

The biggest problem I have is the blank stare received when, not if, something goes awry with a discount card/coupon/voucher. Because the doctor told them that their drug will be free, then it MUST be so. Why would the doctor tell me this? I don't know, to placate you, maybe? The fun part is you will shit on me because you have some sort of public assistance and can't use your card/pon and won't say shit to the doctor who promised you the world.

Oh, I almost forgot the checks. Old people, just give it up. One would think being so close to death would expedite payment processes. Not so much, it turns out. Get a bank card, credit card, cash, Amex gift card or something. Pay me in fucking seashells if you must. I can't waste the time to tell you what the day is, how to spell the name of my establishment, repeatedly tell you the total and remind you to scribble your signature all at the same time. Look, just sign the fucking thing and give it to me. The computer will do the rest. Unless, that is, I'm now so flustered with check-writing angst that I forget to hit "enter" to print the check and the stupid check thingee spits it back out somehow more blank than when it went in (after jiggling and cajoling and hitting it). Now I have to hand it back to you and explain that the register is malfunctioning. Hey, look, I wasn't the asshole writing the check, okay. Odds are, if you're doodling a check to me in this day and age, you'll believe the machine is evil rather than I'm careless. Now you have the blank check in your mitts. "Do I keep this?" No. "Why did you give it back?" Just fill out the missing infor- "Why is it blank? - the computer was supposed to - oh, dear!?"

See what I mean?

Not really news at all...

I am branching out on my own. You may not know me from "The Rx Factor," where I've been a contributor for the last couple years. Now I have the power (like He-Man) and can do what I'd like with the blog. I've been slightly overwhelmed by the bells and whistles available, so this will be a fun work in progress. It's kind of like a pet that doesn't shit on your carpet, but does not give you the validation you so crave. That's kinda how pharmacy is.