(Regrettably, our local university is the main reason that county STD rates are the second-highest in the state (the highest-ranking county is home to a naval base). Outbreaks are common and rather a grim joke with local healthcare providers. The county has purchased a new emergency radio system and one of their officers has arrived to train our staff on how to use the equipment.)
Instructor: “The great thing about this system is that it is linked to over two hundred towers, state-wide. This means that if you need to, you can communicate not only throughout the county, but with other jurisdictions as well. For example; let’s say you have to set up some kind of emergency clinic at the University for… I don’t know, what’s an epidemic that the students might experience there?”
Me: *without thinking* “Probably chlamydia.”
(My boss shushed me, but our director of nursing almost fell off her chair from laughing so hard.)
(I work as a pharmacist in a pharmacy inside a department store. This takes place on Black Friday and the entire store has massive sales going on; however, the pharmacy is just running under normal business hours. This is the first but not last occurrence this entire day.)
Patient: “You guys are open today?”
Me: “Yes, we are. Just normal hours today, though.”
Patient: “So that means I get my prescriptions half off, right?”
Me: “No, that’s not how it works.”
Patient: “But the entire store is on sale. You guys should be, too!”
Me: “Well, there’s no Black Friday in the pharmacy.”
Patient: “YOU SHOULD!”
Me: “Tell you what; I can give you 30% off the cash price of your prescription. I can’t discount insurance, but I can work with the cash price. Just don’t tell anyone I’m doing this.”
Patient: “Sure!”
Me: “Okay, the cost of your prescription with the discount is… [price around $3000].”
Patient: “What?! I pay $5 normally!”
Me: “Well, that’s the cost of the prescription, so take it or leave it
(I’m in the pharmacy waiting to pick up my regular prescription, which is two-month’s worth of anti-depressant. Unfortunately, the pharmacy only has one box left of my dosage that day, so I’m about to ask for a ticket to come back tomorrow to finish my order, when the woman serving me – not the chemist – leaves me dumbfounded. )
Worker: “Oh, we only have one box left; do you just want to try something else?”
Me: *after a couple of stunned seconds* “Um, what?”
Worker: “Since we only have one box left, do you want to just take something else?”
Me: *after another few seconds of staring blankly at her* “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I can’t just mix and match anti-depressants like that. Doesn’t sound like a good idea.”
Worker: “Oh. Right, then.”
(I was still stunned when the actual chemist came over to give me my medication and the ticket to pick up my other box I was owed. You would think an employee handling medication would be aware switching up and mixing anti-depressants like that would do more harm than good!)
(A male customer comes in, walks up to the counter, and puts a package of batteries on the counter.)
Customer: “I want to return these.”
Me: “May I have your receipt, please?”
Customer: “I don’t have a receipt.”
Me: “Then I will need a government issued ID.”
Customer: “I have a college ID.”
Me: “I am sorry, sir. It must be a valid government issued ID.”
(He hands me the college ID.)
Me: “I am sorry, sir. This ID isn’t government issued.”
Customer: “Fine, then I won’t return ’em. Stupidest f****** rule ever.”
(The customer proceeds to wander around the store looking around, and then returns to the front counter with his hands empty.)
Customer: “I lost my batteries.”
Me: “Okay, sir, I can have an employee help you look for them.”
(I wave an employee over and assign him to help the customer look for the batteries. They head out to the floor to look. The customer selects a few items as he is looking around. Then all of a sudden, with his hands full, he casually walks right past the cashier and out the front door. I walk up to the doorway and yell.)
Me: “Sir, you need to come back in and pay for those items.”
Customer: “Why? You stole my d*** batteries!”
(I watch him get in his car. I get the license plate number and call the police and give them a general direction the customer headed. The police call me back fifteen minutes later.)
Officer: “We caught the suspect. He was trying to return the items you described as stolen to the [Drugstore] across the street from you.”
Me: “What?! Wow! Okay … uh… hmm.”
Officer: “Yeah, I know. Sometimes I can’t wrap my mind around how some people can be so stupid either.”
(My dad is the pharmacy manager and is bringing me in to job shadow him and his coworkers. My dad is well-known and well liked among most of his customers and has never shown anyone disrespect before, being an easy-going and reasonable man. He’s in the middle of unlocking the pharmacy as it is ten minutes before opening, and already there is someone at the drive-thru.)
Customer: *immediately as the technician turns on the speaker* “Why aren’t you guys answering your d*** phone?!”
Technician: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but we only just opened. Can I help you with anything?”
Customer: “You can get me my prescription. How dare you keep me waiting any longer than I already have?!” *note that she only just got here, as have we*
Technician: “All right, ma’am. Just one moment.”
(The technician takes her information before turning around and give me a knowing exaggerated look. I resist giving the customer the finger as she huffs and turns to her daughter in the passenger seat who rolls her eyes as the technician talks to my dad. My dad comes over to speak with her and give her her medicine.)
Dad: “I’m really sorry for the wait, ma’am, but we haven’t opened the pharmacy yet. Here is your prescription.”
Customer: “You WOULD’VE known I was coming if you just answered your d*** phone!”
Dad: *with high level of patience and positivity that I can only ever hope to achieve* “I’m sorry ma’am, but again, we have only just started opening the pharmacy. There was no one here to answer the phone until two minutes ago. I hope you have a good day.”
Customer: “Don’t get snappy with me! You should always answer the phone!” *drives off*
Dad: *shrugs at me* “She’s not a regular. She probably doesn’t know our hours.”
(Everyone got back to work and the rest of the day went on pretty peacefully. It was only later that my dad checked the phone and found thirteen unheard messages, from 2:43 am, 3:11 am, 4:13 am, etc. All of them had no actual messages and were silent. Three guesses who they were all from and the first two don’t count.)
Clerk #1 : *continues ringing up items* “This is on sale. If you’d had your card, you could have had the discount. Ooh, this one would have been a BIG discount if you’d had a card.”
(Our pharmacy automatically substitutes a generic for brand name medication when a generic is available. The exception is if the doctor writes “brand name only,” or the patient specifically requests brand name. Of course, the generic names aren’t as well known, so the customers will sometimes be confused as to what prescription they have until we explain that the medication is a generic and does the exact same thing as the brand, though at a lower cost. The information about the drug is also printed on a pamphlet, including the brand names, in case they don’t believe us.)
Me: “Hello, [Pharmacy]. [My Name] speaking. How can I help?”
Customer: “I didn’t get [Brand Sleep Medication]. I got it with something extra! I just want the regular type.”
Me: “I’m sorry, something extra?”
Customer: “Yeah I got [poorly pronounced Generic] instead, and you guys gave me extra.”
Me: “Ma’am, that’s the generic name of [Brand]; there’s nothing extra in it.”
Customer: “I don’t want the extended release, just the [Brand].”
Me: “Ma’am, that IS the regular strength. That’s just the name they use.”
Customer: *finally getting the point* “So, this [Brand]?”
Me: *giving up trying to explain generic* “Yes, ma’am, it is [Brand].”
Customer: “So there’s nothing extra in it?”
Me: “Right. Here, what’s your name, so I can look it up?”
(She gives me her name and DOB so I can verify she does in fact have the generic.)
Me: “Okay, I looked it up, that is the [Brand], regular strength.”
Customer: *finally getting the idea* “Okay, thank you!”
(I get off the phone, and the pharmacist, who has been listening to my call the whole time, is trying not to laugh as he’s talking.)
Pharmacist: “So she DIDN’T have ‘extra stuff’ in her medication?”
Me: “No, she didn’t. It was just [Generic]. Why don’t they just read the information labels?”
Pharmacist: “That would take away half of our job description.”
(We are going to close soon, but we aren’t very busy and she’s getting an important medication, so I can get it ready for her if she needs it tonight.)
Me: “Sure thing. Did you want to get this tonight or come back tomorrow?”
Customer: “Oh, I need it tonight. When will it be done?”
Me: “Well, we close at six, so before then!”
Customer: “Oh, you can’t get it ready any sooner…?”
Me: “Uh… It’s 5:45 right now.”
Customer: *in a snippy tone* “Well, how was I supposed to know?! I’m not wearing a watch!”
(I work in a pharmacy. A youngish woman approaches the counter.)
Customer: “I’m here to pick up my daughter’s prescription.”
Me: “Of course. Can I get her name and DOB?” *She gives it and I look it up* “I’m sorry, but we don’t have it here.”
Customer: “The doctor should’ve called it in two days ago. It’s all right, though, I can use my DEA to call it in.” *a series of numbers and letters used to identify doctors*
(I’m a little surprised. She doesn’t really look old enough to prescribe.)
Me: “Ma’am, are you a doctor?”
Customer: “No, but I have a DEA.”
Me: “Well, that might not be necessary. It might be on hold at drop off.”
Customer: “All right, I’ll check there first.”
(She goes to the other counter, and I lose track of her with my own customers. About 30 or 45 minutes later, she comes back to pick up her daughter’s prescription.)
Me: “Oh, glad she got her [prescription].”
Customer: “Yeah, it wasn’t over there, though. Glad I could take care of her and call it in without having to call the doctor. ”
(It’s late on a Sunday afternoon, when most doctor’s offices are closed.)
Me: “It must be reassuring you can always get her medicine. You could do it too if you had an NPI [other set of identifying numbers, necessary for calling in narcotics].”
Customer: “Oh, I have one of those, too, but I don’t really use it. I work at a women’s health clinic, so I’ve never prescribed those.”
(I work in a pharmacy in an area known for prescription drug abuse, and where narcotics are given out like candy. This was reassuring on her part.)
Me: “Oh. Here’s her prescriptions ”
(We do have a few patients that are doctors, and write their own prescriptions, and occasionally for their family that are also our patients. They’re usually arrogant, however, and argue prescription prices, drug types, etc. She was extremely nice, though. It made my day a little bit better.)
(A woman, aged around 40, comes to pick up her prescription. I ask for the last name so I can find her in the system. It is a long complex last name, and our system requires full perfect spelling to bring it up. She spells it out slowly and condescendingly. I brush it off and get her prescription from our bin. When I walk back to the counter she throws a coupon at me. I had noticed her prescription was already billed to insurance AND coupon, so I ask her what’s it for.)
Woman: *rudely* “If you read it, you’d know.”
Me: “The reason I ask is because there is already a coupon applied.”
Woman: “Oh, well, it must’ve been automatically applied.”
(That isn’t possible; we bill them like insurance and it is somewhat a long process, especially when it’s a coordination of benefits. I say nothing to that and ask her to type in the last four digits of her phone number as one of our verification methods. Rudely again, she snaps.)
Woman: “Why would I do that?”
Me: “If you want your prescription, you must verify your number.”
Woman: “Well, that’s an invasion of my privacy.”
Me: “It’s to ensure the prescription goes to the correct person.”
(She reluctantly agreed and she dramatically covered the PIN pad all while grumbling as it as if it was a debit pin. Her prescription was in my hand and it contained her full name, address, and the full phone number she partially typed. She then began to make small talk as she handed me her cash. I gave her the change, and she stood at the counter staring at the receipt and recounting her change for literally 15 minutes. Since I was fairly new, my coworkers explained that she was notorious for being rude. When she comes through drive-thru, apparently she doesn’t speak a single word. She just throws her credit card into the drawer and expects us to know that she’s picking up.)
(My friend and I browse the natural supplement section of the pharmacy. She hands me bottles of diet pills and I read the ingredients. Note that she cannot take any caffeine or green tea because of health problems.)
Friend: “What’s in this one?”
Me: “Caffeine, laxative, raspberries.”
Friend: “And this one?”
Me: “Caffeine and green tea.”
Friend: “And this one?”
Me: “It’s written GREEN TEA in gigantic green letters on the bottle.”
(I recently had a cyst in a very intimate place get infected and had to get antibiotics to treat it. Note that I also work in this particular pharmacy and all of us can be a little bit quirky about some things. This conversation happens when I go to pick up the antibiotic and my coworker asks me if I’ll be calling out of work for illness.)
Me: “Oh, no, I just got a cyst that’s infected.”
Coworker: *eyes light up* “Oh! If you go somewhere to get it popped, can you have them record it? I love watching the pus come out!”
Me: “Umm, it’s in a place you wouldn’t want to see.”
Coworker: “Oh.” *pause* “Just blur that part out!”
(I work for a very large pharmacy/convenience store that has a very specific return policy. If it’s an item of our brand, it can be returned no matter what: empty, destroyed, no receipt, anything. However, it’s returned and you’re given a ”money card,” which can be used on anything in-store except for prescriptions and cigarettes. A woman from the neighborhood knows this and this occurs almost daily. Today is my last day working.)
Me: *currently restocking the candy in front of my till when I hear a loud cough and see the customer standing three spaces away waiting* “Ma’am, may I help you?”
Lady: “About f****** time. I have a return. I demand you help me now!”
Me: *I walk back to my till, grabbing her items on the way, and start the return by scanning her receipt, noting that she paid with food stamps for her purchase* “Okay, this shouldn’t be an issue. Do you have the food stamp card used? I just need to scan it to reimburse you.”
Lady: “It’s not a food stamp card, you assumptive piece of s***! It’s just for us folks who don’t have a rich daddy to pay for s***. And no, I don’t have it with me.”
(She proceeds to grab the receipt from me.)
Lady: “Just give me one of those d*** cards, okay? God, you take forever.”
(I cancel out the return and begin a return without receipt, which requires my manager to okay that I am activating the card.)
Me: “Okay, this should be just fine; just give me one moment to get my manager to activate the card.”
Lady: “Of course. Hurry up; I don’t have all day, Princess.”
(At this point, I’ve had to deal with her so many times that I am almost joyfully taking my time. I knock on my manager’s office and let him know who it is and what’s going on.)
Manager: “Ma’am, this will just take me a quick moment. Can I ask why you’re returning this?”
Lady: “It’s f****** disgusting. All your products are. Just give me my card finally.”
(My manager tells her how to use the card and gives it to her with a printed balance.)
Lady: “I’m just going to use it now, you f****** idiot. Princess, can you finally get off your fat a** and get me a carton of [Cigarette Brand] and two lighters?”
Manager: “Ma’am, I have already told you that you cannot buy cigarettes with this card.”
Lady: “I don’t care! Bad enough you can’t give me my money back. Let me get my f****** cigarettes.”
(At this point, I’m completely shocked. Usually, telling her gets her to go to a different store.)
Manager: *speaking to me* “Did her original receipt show food stamps again?”
Lady: “THEY ARE NOT STAMPS!”
Me: “Yes.”
(At this point, my manager asks for the card so he can “fix the issue” and hands it to me.)
Manager: “Can you please dispose of this for me? As for you, ma’am, I demand you leave. This is the fifth time you’ve tried to get cigarettes with food stamps and I cannot take this.”
Lady: *completely irate* “No! I demand my god-d*** f****** cigarettes, you f****** c***!”
(Knowing this is my last day, I look at her completely stone faced and snap the card in half.)
Me: “You need to leave. Now.”
(She later came back that day with a police officer, claiming that we stole from her. My manager took the officer into the room, explained the situation, and showed him both the returned product and the snapped card. She was arrested for food stamp fraud.)
Manager: “You can go home early today. When you’re at college, do something not to end up here.”
(A customer comes up to me with two packages of a popular over-the-counter drug brand; one is for treating cold symptoms and one is a sleep aid only.)
Customer: “I’m not sure which one to get.”
Me: *pointing to the orange box* “Well, this one treats symptoms of a minor cold, like stuffy nose and chest congestion, and this one—” *pointing to the blue box* “—is a sleep aid.”
Customer: “Which one should I get?”
Me: “Do you have a cold or do you need help falling asleep?”
Customer: “I don’t know. Can you put them behind your back and mix them up, then I’ll just pick a hand and go with it.”
Me: “It might just be better to choose the one that fits your symptoms.”
Customer: *pushing the boxes at me* “No, this will be fine. Just mix them up behind your back, and I’ll pick one.”
Me: “Um, okay.” *dutifully puts the boxes behind my back and switches hands*
(The customer picks the hand that was holding the sleep aid.)
(A customer comes up to me with two packages of a popular over-the-counter drug brand; one is for treating cold symptoms and one is a sleep aid only.)
Customer: “I’m not sure which one to get.”
Me: *pointing to the orange box* “Well, this one treats symptoms of a minor cold, like stuffy nose and chest congestion, and this one—” *pointing to the blue box* “—is a sleep aid.”
Customer: “Which one should I get?”
Me: “Do you have a cold or do you need help falling asleep?”
Customer: “I don’t know. Can you put them behind your back and mix them up, then I’ll just pick a hand and go with it.”
Me: “It might just be better to choose the one that fits your symptoms.”
Customer: *pushing the boxes at me* “No, this will be fine. Just mix them up behind your back, and I’ll pick one.”
Me: “Um, okay.” *dutifully puts the boxes behind my back and switches hands*
(The customer picks the hand that was holding the sleep aid.)
(We recently get a new scheduling manager that is horrible about communicating with everyone and often changes the schedule at the drop of a hat. Leading up the Black Friday, I’ve been checking the upcoming schedule multiple times every day to insure I am off both Thanksgiving and Black Friday and I indeed am. I even call on Thanksgiving to insure that I am off on Black Friday and again it is confirmed. While out with my family I get a call from the scheduling manager.)
Me: “Hello?”
Scheduling Manager: “[My Name], where are you?”
Me: “With my family.”
Scheduling Manager: “You’re supposed to be here!”
Me: “No, I’m not. I checked all last week and everyday and even called yesterday to make sure, [Scheduling Manager]. My name was not down.”
Scheduling Manager: “Well, you need to come in.”
Me: “No.” *hangs up*
Scheduling Manager: *calls me a few more times which I ignore then texts me* “Please, you need to come in. I’m sorry for the confusion. I’ll have to work a 13-hour shift if you don’t.”
Me: *texts back* “I am not coming in. I was not on the schedule for today. Stop texting me.”
Scheduling Manager: *texts* “Please!”
Me: *texts* “No.” *turns off phone*
(I turned my phone back on after I got back home. I had numerous messages from her. I complained to the manager above her who said she would sort it out. The scheduling manager left two months later
Me: “Ma’am, your copay for your prescription is five cents.”
Customer: “You selfish little c***! My copay should be zero! Does it look like I have that kind of money on me!?”
Me: “Ma’am, it’s a nickel. I think you can find one in the cup holder of your car. I’m sorry, but I can’t sell you your prescription without it being paid for.”
Customer: “Well f*** you and this f****** store! I’m calling your management!”
(Two hours later.)
Boss: “We had a complaint about you today. Care to explain?”
Me: “She couldn’t pay for her five cent prescription.”
(I go to a podiatrist because I have a fungal infection, and he wrote me a prescription for some pills and says that he will send it to the pharmacy. I go to the pharmacy for the medicine.)
Me: “Hello, I’m here to pick up this prescription?”
Clerk: “Okay.”
Me: “Here it is.”
(I hand what the doctor gave me over. It has the pharmacy name and address, and the doctor’s name and address. She frowns and squints at it, looks at the computer, and frowns again.)
Clerk: “This is your doctor?”
Me: “Yes, Dr. [Name].”
Clerk: “Okay…”
(She gives me a narrow-eyed suspicious look and leaves. I figure that she went to give it to the pharmacist to fill. I wait a minute, and then ask again.)
Me: “Hello, I’m trying to pick up my prescription?”
Same Clerk: “Name?”
Me: “Name.”
(She goes and gets it, but doesn’t hand it over.)
Same Clerk: “ID?”
Me: *gives it*
Same Clerk: “Address?”
Me: *gives it*
Same Clerk: *scowls suspiciously, frowning at computer*
(At this point, I’m getting annoyed. It’s been over 15 minutes.)
Me: “It’s me! That’s my prescription!”
Same Clerk: “Well… okaaay.”
(She hands it over, along with my ID, still unsure. Not all of us are drug abusers, lady.)
(I am a pharmacy student currently working as a technician at a local pharmacy. A patient who is on a blood-pressure lowering medication is now starting a new lowered dose.)
Me: “Hi, Mr. [Patient]. I just wanted to make sure that you’re aware the doctor is changing the dose for your medication?”
Patient: “Yup, I was getting lightheaded and passing out from the medication.”
Me: “Oh, that’s unfortunate. Well, hopefully this new dose works out better for you!”
Patient: “Yeah, so I was on top of my wife and then suddenly I blacked out and I fell on top of her, and it just really killed the mood, y’know? After that, the moment was just over…”
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