notageek

This is the first week of the rest of my life. My license is activated, I’ve pulled my first few shifts as a staff pharmacist, and it’s all far, far better than I had feared.

Actually, it’s as good as I had hoped. I jumped ship on the contract I signed with $Local_Chain before it became valid (i.e. before I got licensed), and I’m working at a pharmacy where I did one of my rotations. The front end and the tech adore me, I get to compound again, my manager is sane and I can walk to work.

Also, there’s a yarn shop upstairs.

You can release my license from “pending” any minute now.
Not that I am entering my name into the online credential check every 2 hours or so, or anything of the sort.

Dear nurse I talked to at a hospital I no longer work for:
The pharmacy is not calling you because we have nothing better to do. We are not bored, and we do not have a fondness for bothering office staff. I am calling you because the prescription is wrong and I need to correct it before I can dispense it. Legally, medically and ethically.
Do not tell me “Well, that’s what the doctor wrote.” I know that’s what the doctor wrote. It’s what the prescription says, and the prescription is wrong. I know you are trying to squirm out of dealing with this phone call.

Your office and my pharmacy are both on the hook until the patient is done with this medication. Don’t you pretend your responsibility ended when the doctor signed and the patient left the building.

If you don’t know how to pronounce the drug name, it’s OK to spell it out on the voice mail. An indication would be nice, too.

Still, there’s something uniquely poetic in dubbing an antidepressant “despairamine”.