I just finished picking out my anniversary award for five years at my job. I had a hard time choosing between steak knives and a silver bracelet. The practical side of me was screaming for steak knives. We have needed new steak knives for years, but that's one of those things you never think about buying until you are home with the barbeque and in desperate need of a sharp edge to cut your steak. But the bracelet won out eventually. Since I am the one who has to show up to work every day, I figured I'd be selfish and get something personal. Because it IS all about me. And we don't eat that much steak. Anyway, the best part about having reached my five year mark is that I get an extra week of vacation now- woo hoo!! Boy do I need it.
But speaking of WORK, yes, as a matter of fact, I do fight off the Lortab crowd every day. It's not as bad as it was where I used to work, but still, nearly every day I am the mean lady who tells that poor sickly person that they can't get their Lortab until tomorrow, even if they are going out of town, and they are out because the doctor told them to take more because that infection got worse AND they broke their arm, AND they just had a root canal. I tell you, my job has made me heartless. And jaded. I do not believe anything that anybody tells me anymore.
What I do believe is that stupid people outnumber smart people two to one, at least among the pharmacy crowd.
Yesterday, somebody came to get a prescription for their kid. I asked them the name on it, and they said "John Doe". So I check the computer, and we have one, but for a John Smith. I ask them the birthday, and they tell me, and the birthdays match up. But because of stupid HIPAA, I can't just tell them the last name on the prescription in my computer. So I say, is there any other last name it could be under? The parents look at me weird, and say no. I ask them the doctor they saw, and its the same doc I've got on the scrip. I KNOW its the same patient, and that somebody somewhere has messed up, so I am just about to call the doctor to figure it out, when I just decide to cave, and tell them the last name that I have. So I say, well we have a scrip for a John with that birthday, but the last name I have is Smith. And the dad goes yeah, thats the last name. Oh, I say, I thought you said the last name was Doe. Yeah, says dad, his name is John Doe Smith. Oh, thanks for that, I think, because I love guessing games.
And the day before that, grandma shows up with grandson and says, "I need to pick up some Zyrtec for my grandson."
"Okay", I say, "does he have a prescription, or do you just need to buy some over the counter?"
" It's a prescription", says Grandma.
"What's the name on it?" I ask.
"There is no name on it. It's just Zyrtec", repeats Grandma, in a put out sort of tone.
" I mean the name of your grandson", I say.
"Why would his name be on it?" says Grandma, now even more perturbed. "It's just Zyrtec."
"Did you say you had a prescription for it?" I ask.
"NO." says Grandma."I just want to buy some over the counter". At which point I turn around and slam my head into the wall in frustration. Not really, but I wanted to.
Then there is this classic. The phone rings. I answer.
"Hi, I need to refill my prescription."
"Okay. Do you have the prescription number?"
"Uh, no." Of course you don't.
"No problem. What name is it under?"
"Ambien." they say. Well gee, that's helpful, because YOU are the ONLY person at this pharmacy that fills Ambien!
"Okay. And what is YOUR name?"
Well hey there, Chris on Ambien! How the heck are you?? Nice to talk to you! And as forthcoming as you have been, I STILL don't have enough info to help you. What I am looking for here is YOUR FULL NAME. Difficult concept I know.
How about just one more? Phone rings. I answer.
" Hey, I need you to fill my prescription."
"Do you have the number on it?"
I ask for their name and they actually give me their full name with no further prompting. We are off to a rollicking start. Things are looking good. I pull up their profile, and there are 26 things they fill with us every month.
"Okay, what was it you need filled?"
"Oh, I can't remember the name."
"What is it for?"
"I don't know. I threw the bottle away, But I'm out and I need some more."
"When did you fill it last?"
"I don't know. It's been a while."
"Which doctor prescribed it?"
"Oh, I don't know. It's the round blue pill. Can't you see it on my record?"
No. I do not know off the top of my head which one of your 26 meds is blue. Or pink. Or what color your eyes are. Or what color the sky is where you live. Do you live in a pink house? Do you own steak knives? Can I borrow them? Do you want to come to my barbeque? Bring your Lortab, okay? And bring Chris on Ambien. It'll be great, and I'll show you all my new bracelet.
In my next rant, we will delve into the many joys of insurance, and people who don't know if they have any, but think that I should know.
Here's to another five years!