Wednesday 25 April 2012
Thursday 19 April 2012
"I'm Having An Allergic Reaction"
One early Monday morning, a young girl came running into the pharmacy with a friend. Her face was puffed out to about twice what it should have been, a large rash had started on her arms, and her eyes and nose were both running like faucets.
"I'm having an allergic reaction. I have trouble breathing. What should I do?"
I'm no miracle worker, and when it comes to something as vital as breathing, I don't mess around. I told the girl to go right to the hospital, do not pass go, do not collect $200.
"But I have an exam this morning! I can't go to the hospital!"
I then tried to calmly explain to her that any teacher in their right mind would take one look at her puffy face and would ship her out to the hospital and let her write the exam at a later date. If not, any teacher would accept a note from the doctor, because no teacher wants to be responsible for the student who stops breathing during an exam due to an allergic reaction.
"Can't I just take something to make it all go away?" I wanted to tell her that antihistamines aren't a magic wand, but pointed her to the Benadryl regardless. I explained to her that it might make her sleepy, and therefore going to the hospital would be her best best. This was met with more complaining, and she sat down to scratch the large rash that had broken out on her legs.
"Just write the exam tomorrow!" piped up her friend. My colleague and myself nodded our heads in agreement.
"I'm so stressed out! I just want to write the exam!" wailed the girl.
"But your nose is going to drip all over it anyway! You can write it tomorrow!" The friend then explained that she is actually the girl's instructor, and brought her to the pharmacy because it was quite evident that the girl's state was not one ideal for exam writing.
"I'll just take the Benadryl. I won't fall asleep and this will all go away," said the girl, as she continued to scratch at her legs and used her other hand to wipe her running nose.
The girl bought her Benadryl and left with her instructor. The girl informed my colleague that her exam was at the aesthetic school, and was actually a practical exam on epilation. She then blew her nose for the ten millionth time and left.
I don't know if she managed to do the exam or not, but I certainly pity the person who went in for a leg wax and got more than just wax smeared all over.
"I'm having an allergic reaction. I have trouble breathing. What should I do?"
I'm no miracle worker, and when it comes to something as vital as breathing, I don't mess around. I told the girl to go right to the hospital, do not pass go, do not collect $200.
"But I have an exam this morning! I can't go to the hospital!"
I then tried to calmly explain to her that any teacher in their right mind would take one look at her puffy face and would ship her out to the hospital and let her write the exam at a later date. If not, any teacher would accept a note from the doctor, because no teacher wants to be responsible for the student who stops breathing during an exam due to an allergic reaction.
"Can't I just take something to make it all go away?" I wanted to tell her that antihistamines aren't a magic wand, but pointed her to the Benadryl regardless. I explained to her that it might make her sleepy, and therefore going to the hospital would be her best best. This was met with more complaining, and she sat down to scratch the large rash that had broken out on her legs.
"Just write the exam tomorrow!" piped up her friend. My colleague and myself nodded our heads in agreement.
"I'm so stressed out! I just want to write the exam!" wailed the girl.
"But your nose is going to drip all over it anyway! You can write it tomorrow!" The friend then explained that she is actually the girl's instructor, and brought her to the pharmacy because it was quite evident that the girl's state was not one ideal for exam writing.
"I'll just take the Benadryl. I won't fall asleep and this will all go away," said the girl, as she continued to scratch at her legs and used her other hand to wipe her running nose.
The girl bought her Benadryl and left with her instructor. The girl informed my colleague that her exam was at the aesthetic school, and was actually a practical exam on epilation. She then blew her nose for the ten millionth time and left.
I don't know if she managed to do the exam or not, but I certainly pity the person who went in for a leg wax and got more than just wax smeared all over.
Wednesday 18 April 2012
Wednesday 11 April 2012
Friday 6 April 2012
On Requesting The Impossible
This story was related to me by a colleague:
On a quiet Friday afternoon, I received a long distance phone call from the United States. First thing they did was insist on speaking with my boss, who of course never works Fridays and never has. It took me a bit, but I finally managed to convince them that I was indeed the must qualified and competent person they could speak with at the present time, so they got down to business.
"I need Fentanyl lollipops, dear. How long would it take for you to FedEx them to me?"
There are many reasons why this question would elicit a facepalm. Firstly, Fentanyl is a heavy-duty narcotic. All precriptions for Fentanyl are thoroughly checked out to make sure that the prescription is valid, and that it is compatible with any other medications the patient may be taking.
Secondly, I'd never even heard of them making Fentanyl in lollipop form (it's made in trans-dermal patches and injectables, so I had a funny image of someone licking the patches)- only a Google search confirmed their existence. Therefore, these would have to be made by a pharmacy that specializes in compounding, who would also require copies of the original prescription to be verified. There is only one pharmacy that I knew of that might have been able to make this special medication, but even then I wasn't sure.
Thirdly, this was an American man calling, and even if he had a valid prescription in the States, it wouldn't be valid here.
After I explained all of these points clearly to the man, he tried what he thought would be his trump card: "I'm a personal friend of your boss. He's done this for me in the past. How long have you been working there, anyway? Don't you know who I am?"
A quick computer check proved that the man had never opened a file in our pharmacy, and it would be impossible to have FedExed him this product in the past without some sort of record. Without a valid prescription, there is no way this would have made it past the border.
However, the man kept insisting that our pharmacy, because of my boss being his personal friend, had definitely sent him Fentanyl lollipops in the past. I calmly tried to explain to him that our boss wouldn't do this for his own cousin, let alone an American man with no patient file whatsoever. He grew more irate, and eventually just hung up on me (though in my imagination, he likely slammed down the phone, then did a Google search for another pharmacy he could bug).
This was one of those moments where my coworker's advocacy for drinking on the job seemed entirely reasonable!
On a quiet Friday afternoon, I received a long distance phone call from the United States. First thing they did was insist on speaking with my boss, who of course never works Fridays and never has. It took me a bit, but I finally managed to convince them that I was indeed the must qualified and competent person they could speak with at the present time, so they got down to business.
"I need Fentanyl lollipops, dear. How long would it take for you to FedEx them to me?"
There are many reasons why this question would elicit a facepalm. Firstly, Fentanyl is a heavy-duty narcotic. All precriptions for Fentanyl are thoroughly checked out to make sure that the prescription is valid, and that it is compatible with any other medications the patient may be taking.
Secondly, I'd never even heard of them making Fentanyl in lollipop form (it's made in trans-dermal patches and injectables, so I had a funny image of someone licking the patches)- only a Google search confirmed their existence. Therefore, these would have to be made by a pharmacy that specializes in compounding, who would also require copies of the original prescription to be verified. There is only one pharmacy that I knew of that might have been able to make this special medication, but even then I wasn't sure.
Thirdly, this was an American man calling, and even if he had a valid prescription in the States, it wouldn't be valid here.
After I explained all of these points clearly to the man, he tried what he thought would be his trump card: "I'm a personal friend of your boss. He's done this for me in the past. How long have you been working there, anyway? Don't you know who I am?"
A quick computer check proved that the man had never opened a file in our pharmacy, and it would be impossible to have FedExed him this product in the past without some sort of record. Without a valid prescription, there is no way this would have made it past the border.
However, the man kept insisting that our pharmacy, because of my boss being his personal friend, had definitely sent him Fentanyl lollipops in the past. I calmly tried to explain to him that our boss wouldn't do this for his own cousin, let alone an American man with no patient file whatsoever. He grew more irate, and eventually just hung up on me (though in my imagination, he likely slammed down the phone, then did a Google search for another pharmacy he could bug).
This was one of those moments where my coworker's advocacy for drinking on the job seemed entirely reasonable!
Wednesday 4 April 2012
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