Christmas stories?!

What do you want first, the touching story or the disgusting one? Because they both happened on the same day.

I guess I'll start off with the emotional tear-jerker...

Today I was helping an old woman who was picking up her prescriptions and a few other items such as bread, milk, a few other basic things, and a hershey bar she said was for her grandchild. She was having a hard time affording her prescriptions and was counting down to nickels and pennies trying to come up with enough. Finally she said she didn't have enough and asked me to take off everything except for the prescriptions. Then she asked me, "Which do you think I can't live without?"

Meanwhile, my coworker was helping a young woman who was picking up a script for herself, as well as a basketful of holiday candy, makeup, and other things. The young woman was watching the old woman count out her change and finally told my coworker, "Nevermind, all I need is the prescription right now."

She then took the $50 she was going to spend on other items, gave it to the old woman, said "Merry Christmas, you need this more than I do," and the old woman started crying.

Just when a day full of ungrateful, rude assholes nearly destroyed my last remaining shred of faith in humanity...

It's so heartwarming I could puke.

-------

Ok! Now let's rewind to the beginning of the day for a story that makes me puke for an entirely different reason.

I was the first of the day shift to come in the morning. The midnighter was chilling at the back counter. I glanced at the manager's office, which is the back of the waiting area, on my way in. I saw a big pile of ad papers strewn about the middle of the waiting area so I make a note to tell one of the front store people the next time I see them.

Our poor manager was on her way in for the day, apparently she was picking up the ad papers on the way to her office, and I hear something like a muffled scream, so I come out to check on her, and was in no way prepared for what came next.

THERE WAS HUMAN FECES UNDERNEATH THE AD PAPERS.

SOMEONE SHIT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE WAITING AREA.

AND APPARENTLY NONE OF THE MIDNIGHT SHIFT NOTICED.

So the manager says, "Fuck this! I'm not starting off this shift like this!" And she throws some extra floor tiles down on top of the poop, and called maintenance to get the floor cleaners out to do it. I heard her yelling into the phone, "I don't care if it's Christmas Eve! There's crap all over the floor and the smell is wafting into my office!! Send someone out!"

As I was leaving work today she was in the process of reviewing security tapes to try identify the mysterious Christmas Eve Pooper. I'm dying to know who it is, and how this came to be. I'm suspecting that at least one of the midnight shift knew about the poop but none of them wanted to do anything about it, so they are all denying knowledge of the turd's existence. Anyway, the surveillance tape will tell the truth.

God I hope she puts it up on youtube.

--IISgirl ... Merry Christmas to all!

Never fear, a student pharmacist is here!

So, many of you may be asking, “IISgirl, where have you been for the past 2 months?”

Well, my answer to you is simple: I’ve been studying therapeutics and saving the lives of little old ladies!

Saving old ladies?! Let me elaborate.

Well, there I was at the coffee shop, feeding my caffeine addiction and studying therapeutics. A fairly boring Sunday afternoon. I glanced up from a particularly enthralling chapter of DiPiro just in time to see a frail old woman fall out of her wheelchair and hit her head on the pavement on the other side of the parking lot.

If I remember correctly, "Oh shit," was my sentiment at the time.

I went running outside. It took me long enough to get across the parking lot to see 4 or 5 other people walking right by this woman who laying on the ground, not even giving her a second glance. I was enraged that these assholes were too engrossed in their cell phones and cups of coffee to give a damn about another human being who was hurt.

The woman was about 80 years old. She had an equally old and frail friend with her who was trying to help her. There was a bleeding gash on her forehead, but she was fairly alert and cognitive. As I was talking to her and checking her out, another person who wasn’t an asshole came over to see if we needed help. I sent him back into the coffee shop for ice and napkins and wrapped her in my jacket.

Now, it turns out the lady was on warfarin, so she was quite the bleeder. Finally the bleeding was under control and I put ice on it. I checked her pupil size—did the whole PERRLA/EOMI exam that I thought I’d never use—to check for signs of a concussion. Things looked ok.

The guy who came over helped me lift the lady into the car and pack up her wheelchair, her very worked up friend said she would drive her to the ER, and my work there was done.

The lady was such a sweetheart. I hope she’s ok. I’m sure she is, she was quite the trooper.

It felt weird, operating solo, making the decisions and having a real patient. Between me and the guy who came to help, I was the one with the healthcare background, so he and the two old ladies were looking at me for direction. It was a relatively minor and simple situation, but I felt so accomplished being able to help that woman. I feel like I really made a difference!

All in a day’s work for a student pharmacist. :)

-IISgirl… to the rescue!

Party Like Your Grandma!

So today was an excellent day to work.
1. First weekend of the month
2. Beginning of the cold season
3. Allergies
4. Herpes.

Yes. Herpes. Apparently October is the 'spread your warts to your lovers' month. Today we had an outstanding number of scripts for herpes related creams/gels and pills. The greatest (and sickest) one came in a little after 12 noon. A young man comes in with a 2 scripts, one for an older man and one for an older woman. The man was asked for identification and I realized he was not related to either of these patients, so I asked about his affiliation to the couple who is getting their herpes gel and valtrex prescription filled. He apparently is an associate of a local Nursing Community and he was telling me how there is a 'herpes outbreak' amongst the residents.

I guess everyone wants to stay warm as the weather is getting cooler. Party on grandma and grandpa.


Alright everyone, stay safe from the contagious flu and herpes!

-IIS....feeling a strange itch after shaking so many people's hands today

Mispronounced Drug Names

I think I am going to start chronicling all the entertaining mispronunciations I hear from patients.

Today's winner is Metmorfin. It's a simple transposition of letters, but I couldn't help but giggle and think of the Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers... perhaps, Power Rangers: The Later (And Diabetic) Years.

--IISgirl ... go go power rangers!

Haha. That's great IISGirl. What a coincidence, we had some tongue tied patients today as well and one lady called in for her simwatistatin and her husband's meteorprolololol.

--IISBoy...lolololol'ing all the way home.

My life is full of these embarassing little moments!

So I don't have a huge update. Basically, tonight at work I dropped the entire top drawer from the narcotics safe while trying to reach the last box of Fentanyl 25mcg patches, spilling Fentanyl patches everywhere. In all the excitement, I ripped the crotch seam in my $70 pants from Express.

Now, as a grad student, I can afford to buy $70 pants, hmm, about once every 3 years. So naturally I swore up a storm. To make matters worse, my lab coat is missing its bottom-most button, making it impossible for me to cover up my lime green underwear so easily. It was all totally visible and highly embarrassing, letmetellyou!

It figures. Pants-ripping-day ends up being the same day as ostentatious-underwear-day. But, hey, I'm sick of white coats and button-down shirts, I gotta express myself somehow. I hid behind the production counter for a while, but eventually decided it would be more prudent to attempt to duct-tape the seam back together. It didn't work that well. Eventually I convinced my pharmacist to let me leave work half an hour early due to my wardrobe malfunction, and also because we finally got our queue under control and I mentioned that I needed to study (oddly enough she believed that).

Oh yeah, and my district manager was there on a visit at the time and saw the entire incident unfold, including my vulgar and lengthy recitation of common, uncommon, and invented swear words.

And did I mention it was crazy busy during the hour of the pants-ripping? I shouldn't have to--it's the day after a holiday, of course things are going to be out of hand.

Now that I've shared these personal and embarrassing details of the night my coworkers won't let me forget, I could rant about pharmacy school. But honestly, you might have to re-name me Apathetic Intern Girl, because I'm going to need some Alprazolam and Omeprazole if I let myself get any more worked up over the many ways my college has managed to screw me over in the few days since classes started. So I'll just do my stomach ulcer a favor, let it slide tonight and keep counting down the days. :)

--IISgirl ... graceless. Entirely graceless.

How IISBoy and IISGirl Met...

Hey everyone,
It seems IISGirl and I are on a blogging spree. I guess everything has been building up from the summer and the immense boredom we're experiencing in class is forcing us to do something a little bit more exciting (entertaining you guys!)

Well here is something non-pharmacy related. I guess some of you want to know a little bit more about me and my partner and I think you all have earned it. But instead of telling you, here is a small video clip about basically how we met. It happened kinda like this:




And that's how the IrritableInterns came into existence!

:)
Have fun everyone and don't forget to add some comments!! We would love to hear your thoughts.

--IISBoy...who is waiting for a check from MARS for the excellent product placement

Befriending cops FTW.

So there's a police officer who I've been helping extensively over the past week with some insurance issues, and a thing here or there with his doctor. We'll call him Officer Jones. He's gotten about the best customer service I have to offer, which is pretty damn excellent, if I may say so myself. Prompt, courteous, pleasant, knowledgeable, charming, the whole thing. Almost everyone gets pretty good customer service from me, but if I like you, then you get my best material.

Anyway he came back last night before he started his shift to drop off some scripts for his daughter and to see if I'd sorted out his wife's insurance--which I did. As he's waiting in line to talk to me, the patient I'm helping is being a real asshole, trying to bully me, swearing, the works.

He started flipping out saying that I lost his Xanax script, which is bullshit, and perhaps if he wasn't in such a drug-induced stupor, he would have realized this. Eventually he looks in his pocket and lo and behold, there's the script he was accusing me of stealing. He stormed off without an apology, of course.

Officer Jones, next in line, hands me a few scripts and then says, "Well I'll be damned. One of our frequent fliers. Was he giving you trouble?"

I said, "Well, yeah he was being incredibly rude."

"Then excuse me for a second," he says and he walks over to where the guy is standing, shifty eyed.

"Johnny!" says officer Jones, grabbing him by his arm. "I haven't seen you in a few weeks, what have you been up to? I hope I don't have to tell your parole officer any bad news!" He guides Johnny to the corner where they chat for a while. Johnny shifted uncomfortably and seemed to really need a Xanax or two about then.

Officer Jones comes back a few minutes later and tells me, chuckling a bit, "He won't be causing any problems here anymore. By the way, you've been taking good care of me and my family. If you ever need anything, just call and ask for me. I patrol this area. I'm going to make sure to swing by here every now and then during my shift."

Woo-hoo! Drug Depot isn't being robbed tonight!

I wish he could stick around and deal with every rude junkie that comes in.

The moral of the story is: be nice to cops. :)

--IISgirl ... back to school

Drive-Thru dummy

Since we moved to our new location in January, not many of our customers have utilized our drive-thru system (thank god!). I am guessing that because the drive-thru works through tubes and monitors it is far too advanced for many of our brainiac patients to comprehend. However, in the past few months that I have worked full time, the number of idiots tinkering with that godforsaken contraption has gone up considerably from none to about 3 a week. That probably doesn't sound like a lot but these customers are so terribly idiotic, it takes about 15 min for them to get their medicine, pay, and go away.

One guy who used our system looked like a big, important business man. Driving up in his Benz and sporting an incredibly expensive business suit, one would think this man would have some common sense. Ahhh..but once again my confidence in the human intelligence has failed me. He was impatient and could not wait for the container to send the money so he thew his credit card into the pneumatic tube system and pressed 'send'. His credit card flew up the tube and got stuck half way! Long story short...he ended up coming into the pharmacy, yelling and screaming. Fortunately with a push of the container and a little help from gravity his shiny black American Express card can go back home into his Gucci wallet.

One other user would come out of the car and stick her eye into the camera lens on the monitor as if it was a door that I was hiding behind. Of course she would refuse to come the 50 feet into the building toward the pharmacy and would yell at the camera for her Vicodin. After telling her that her insurance won't pay for it until after 3 days, she would stampede around her car and scream. Two days later she came again, stepped out of the car into the sweltering 90 degree weather and once again demand for her pain pills. I reminded her about her insurance and told her it won't be covered until the next day. Again she let out a scream but this time she kicked the side of the tube system (probably hurting her foot and causing more need of the vicodin), sat back into her 1980-something bonneville then slammed her door shut and raced off my screen.

The same situation happened again the following month.

I am thinking that a DVR should be installed and attached to the cameras so moments like these can be recorded and posted on YouTube for all of the world and laugh at this lady's crazy shenanigans.

By the way...school starts this week. :( Bummer.
Goodluck to everyone with their classes. And congrats to the upcoming P1s!

I know we have been kind of lazy with the postings; but I assure you that because IISGirl and I are back in the classroom, we'll have the time to update and keep up with the blog!

Brain Medicine!

I think a zombie came into Drug Depot today.

In a rare lull of activity, our pharmacist and our techs disappeared to the bathroom, the candy aisle, and who knows where else, leaving me all by my lonesome in the pharmacy.

While I was sitting and staring off down aisle 4, a tall man wearing a motorcycle helmet, a taped up pair of sunglasses, flip-flops, red sweat pants and a rain coat (it was sunny and about 90 degrees outside) was making a beeline toward the pharmacy... right up to the pharmacy gate.

My first thoughts upon seeing him were, This is not a normal human being. His gait was an irregular, jerky stagger, right out of a George Romero film, and his right hand never left his coat pocket.

Our gate doesn't lock. Really, it's just a swinging door. The zombie was pushing on it, about to invade.

Ah, shit.

"Can I help you?" I ask, keeping the production counter between the zombie and I. His right hand is still gripping something large in the pocket of his rain coat. I get a distinct sense of déjà vu. The last time someone staggered up to me and I couldn't see his hands, I had a gun in my face a few seconds later. You don't forget a thing like that. I make a mental note of his features for the police report I will hopefully be alive to make later on.

"I NEED BRAIN MEDICINE."

Yes, you surely do, I think to myself.

The zombie pushes the door open. His right hand moves in his pocket. I'm getting scared.

"Sir, you can't enter the pharmacy!" I say.

"BRAIN MEDICINE!"

The door swings back and hits him in the kneecaps, but he doesn't move or anything.

Um. I pick up the phone and try to decide whether or not I should page The Law back from the bathroom to help me out, or if I should call the police. Maybe he just needs his Seroquel refilled or something. Although I don't recognize him as one of our patients, and you'd think I'd remember someone like that. I decide I should page The Law, and meanwhile try to figure out what this so-called Brain Medicine is.

Before I get a chance to do so, the zombie staggers away just as mysteriously as he appeared, back down aisle 4. I'm not sure what became of him.

--IISgirl ... I need a day off!

hehe.

Victory! Sweet victory!

One of my arch-nemeses from high school dropped off some very embarrassing prescriptions today.

Unfortunately, HIPAA prevents me from reveling (and revealing) too much.

I'm trying not to be too vindictive, but this person went above and beyond to make my high school years miserable, so I deserve a little chuckle at their expense.

So, itch away my friend. Feel the burn. : )

--IISgirl ... today was a true test of maintaining my professional demeanor. I passed!