Spousal Support

I'm trying to think of a safe way to present what happened two nights ago. It involves a husband and wife, and both of them are prescribers of some sort. I don't want to give anyone away, so I won't say if they are doctors, nurse practitioners, dentists or physician assistants either retired or actively practicing. How's that? Because I work in several different towns, I won't disclose the location either.

Anyway, a guy (who is a prescriber of some sort, either retired or in active practice) brought a written prescription for himself. It was for Percocet, and it was written and signed by his wife. Do you think that's legal/ethical? I won't have you ponder that one for too long, and I'll just tell ya...it's not! There are a few instances where it's sort of okay. For example, if there is an emergency, and if it occurs isolatedly (it should be a word) then it's not totally unethical. We paged the fellow back so we could break the news to him about not being able to fill the prescription. While I awaited his return from a far corner of the store, I checked his profile and noticed that his wife had prescribed several other controlled substances for him over the past year or so, so we haven't been paying attention to these shenanigans as well as we should have. All of that made this seem like less of an isolated emergency. Most, if not all, prescribers should know that it's naughty to prescribe such things for a family member, let alone a spouse.

Once the gentleman returned to the pharmacy, I explained to him that I was unable to fill his prescription. He immediately called his wife and shoved the phone in my face, demanding that I speak to her. I don't usually talk on a patient's cell phone, but if this prescriber feels he's above the rules, then maybe I should feel that way too? Okay, so I talked to his wife and explained that maybe, perhaps, it wasn't a good idea to have to her name attached to so many controlled prescriptions for her husband, and I also reminded her that her husband signed a contract with a pain clinic stating he'd only do one-stop shopping with regard to his Percocet, so it's pretty bad to break that contract. She seemed grateful for my intervention in the matter, and I returned the written prescription to her husband at her request. As I was handing it over, he YANKED the paper out of my hands, walked over to the garbage can, ripped up the prescription with dramatic body movements and stomped out. Classy.

Bugs...They Bite

😲👈 That emoji right there represents the facial expression my brain wanted me to have during the following encounter. 😐👈 That emoji represents my actual facial expression, because over the years my talent has grown for making customers feel not quite as dumb as I think they are.

 A dude came to the consultation window at the pharmacy to show me some bug bites on his arms and to ask what he could do to alleviate the itching and "make the bite disappear." Then this conversation took place:

Itchy Bug Bite Buy: So, do you know what bit me?
Me: No.
IBBG: Would they (gestures to my coworkers) know?
Me: No.
IBBG: Well, maybe they would have an idea about what's going around biting people.
Me: I know what it is. Bugs. 
IBBG: But not here.
Me: (confused silence)
IBBG: I didn't think there was anything around here that bit people. Do you think we had a recent flock of bugs come into town?
Me: Well, we have various bugs on a regular basis, including mosquitoes.
IBBG: Well, it wasn't a mosquito.
Me: What was it then?
IBBG: I don't know.
Me: Have you gone anywhere? Walked through any brush or gone camping?
IBBG: No. I haven't left my house all weekend until now. I've been doing yard work all day.
Me: It was probably a bug from your yard then.
IBBG: I don't think so. I didn't see anything.
Me: If you had a lot of weeds to pull, several different bugs like to hide in weeds.
IBBG: Could you just ask the pharmacist what he thinks bit me?
Me: I am the pharmacist.
IBBG: Well, could you ask that other pharmacist?
Me: There wasn't really a bug class in pharmacy school. Also, the treatment is pretty much the same, no matter what bit you, unless it was a poisonous spider or some such thing.
IBBG: Wasn't a spider.
Me: Okay, great.

The Gator Ate It

I always like a good excuse from a customer. I forget to write them all down; otherwise, you'd be reading super awesome and hilarious excuses all day. Before I forget, I just need to share one excuse a customer shared with a colleague of mine, though it's not one I'll likely forget. A customer needed an early refill of a controlled substance, because he took his medication with him while flying his helicopter. He made the mistake of leaving the bottle on the dash, and it slid out the door and into the mouth of an alligator. I'm hoping it's a true story instead of an attempt to score extra meds, but I guess we'll never know.

Al Bundy Comes First

A lady came to the pharmacy requesting a 10-pack of insulin syringes. This particular pharmacy doesn't sell 10-packs anymore. If someone wants insulin syringes, they have to buy a box of 100. It's the pharmacy's way of fighting illegal substance abuse. The logic seems sound. (As a side story, I told a different lady she had to buy 100 instead of 10, and she showed up 4 hours later with a sock holding enough coins to make the purchase.) This woman didn't seem bothered by the requirement to purchase 100 syringes until I told her the price. Instead of the $2.50 for 10 she was used to, she would have to pay approximately $14 for 100. She said, "Are you kidding me?! That's outrageous! I need them for my cat, and you expect me to pay $14 for syringes? My cat will die without these. Fourteen dollars is crazy!" I thought about pointing out that 10 packs of 10 would end up costing $25 over time, but I didn't think she'd use that information wisely, since she didn't automatically do that basic math on her own. In case my readers don't like math either, I figure it's nice to mention that's a savings of $11. Anyway, I could understand her frustration, so I offered to call around and find a pharmacy that still sold 10-packs. Well that wasn't good enough! She continued, "What good is that going to do? Then I have to drive to another store!" I mean, if you love your cat, and if your cat is going to die, what's a little extra driving? While she continued her rant about how stupid I was and whatever, I noticed she had in her cart a box set of "Married With Children," a case of diet Pepsi, a jug of LA Looks hair gel and about nine candles. I almost suggested she put an item or two back in order to make the syringes seem more affordable, but how can I make someone choose between a beloved feline family member and Al Bundy? The choices some people have to make...

(Maybe "my cat" is code for black tar heroin. Don't know. Don't care.)

What's in a Name?

The following scene is real, but the names are not. Well, they're real names, but they aren't the names that fit the actual real-life story. Instead of the actual names, I will use some of the most common names in the Braid Brigade community:

At the drive-up window---

SUV #1: I need Esther Barlow's prescription.
Me: (After doing some research upon seeing that the prescription wasn't ready) It hasn't been filled yet. The problem is that the doctor requested brand name Synthroid, and Medicaid says it's not covered.
SUV #1: Okay, bye.

SUV #2 (about two hours later): I'm here to get Esther Barlow's Synthroid.
Me: Hmmm, someone asked about it a couple of hours ago, but I'll tell you what I told them. Medicaid doesn't pay for it, so unless you'd like to pay cash for it, it's not ready to pick up.
SUV#2: Well Medicaid should pay.
Me: It doesn't pay for brand on this particular medication.
SUV #2: Okay, I will call the doctor.

SUV #2 drives away, and then some soft-spoken woman calls from the doctor's office to let us know that they're okay if we don't fill brand name for Esther Barlow and that they've already spoken to the patient about it.

SUV #3: There should prescriptions for Miryam Jeffs, Edmund Barlow, and Esther Jeffs.
Me: I have Miryam's and Edmund's, but I don't have one for Esther Jeffs.
SUV #3: Well, I just talked to the doctor and they've been having a problem with not being able to get her Synthroid.
Me: Oh, you mean Esther BARLOW?!
SUV #3: No

SUV #3 drives away and returns 10 minutes later ---

SUV #3: You know, it is for Esther Barlow. Sorry about that. I need to get her Synthroid.
Me: Okay, I just finished getting it ready. We had to switch to levothyroxine, the generic for Synthroid.
SUV #3: She can't take that!
Me: Oh. The doctor said it was okay to switch and that they had let the patient know that they are okay with her taking generic.
SUV #3: Well let me call Miryam and ask her.
Me: You mean Esther?
SUV #3: NO!!!
Me: Okay. Well, I don't have Synthroid for Miryam. I have generic Synthroid for Esther Barlow, however.
SUV #3: Oh, that's the one I need.

If they can't keep it straight, how am I supposed to survive? Good grief.

Drugs of Our Lives

Occasionally I unintentionally embroil myself in drama at the pharm. One day, many years ago, an acquaintance from my youth (my more youthful youth, that is) was passing through town and decided to get her insomnia medication filled at my pharmacy. She had been using my pharmacy every few months, even though she didn't live in the area. Every time she came, she was accompanied by her husband and other family members, until that fateful day...when she came alone. All seemed well, as she joyfully and emphatically exclaimed her excitement at seeing me. (That should have been my first red flag, because am I sassy? Yes. Clumsily entertaining? Yes. Cuddly? Yes. Exciting? No.)

Anyway, I digress, per usual. This particular day, she got her fancy sleep aid prescription filled, and skipped along her merry way. Then, her husband called and asked for me. He wanted to know if his wife was at the pharmacy at that very moment. His question seemed to indicate that he knew she was planning to visit me. I told him he had just missed her. He thanked me and hung up. About 3 minutes later, chick from my childhood called me in a fit of hysteria and sobbing. "How could you tell my husband I was at the pharmacy? We are staying at a condo in town, and I left for just a few minutes while he was in the shower. He can't know I was there. Will you call him and tell him that I didn't pick up a prescription?" I never told him that she HAD picked up a prescription, so I wondered why I needed to perpetuate this lie. I wasn't planning to phone him; however, if I had planned to, he would have beaten me to the phone, because he called about 45 seconds after my conversation with this lady from my earlier life. He said, "I know my wife called you. I know she asked you to lie for her. Please don't lie for her. I am begging you. I have to know if she picked up a prescription." Dude, consent from the patient is not implied for this particular transaction, so I can't really tell you anything. At this point, do I lie? If I decide to lie to him, is there anything I could say that he would believe? Does a wife sneak out while her husband is in the shower just to go buy some bubble gum? Does she sneak out to get him a birthday gift? Is it even his birthday? No matter my choice of reply, nothing will keep my female friend out of trouble. So, I just told him that I can't inform him either way, whether or not she picked up some sleepy-time drugs, or anything else for that matter. That should have worked, right? Hmmm...

Once again, I got a highly emotional phone call begging me to please call the husband and tell him that she was there buying fingernail polish remover and NOT DRUGS! She explained her reasoning for such forceful pleading. "I went to rehab for 6 months because I was addicted to [the medication I picked up today] and I vowed to never use it again," she cried. "If [my husband] finds out I'm taking this medication, he will leave. HE WILL LEAVE ME, KRISTIN!" Neat. This girl has some serious issues. Before I even had a chance to consider calling her husband, he showed up at the pharmacy alone. I was in the back of the store when he arrived, attending to some administrative duties. One of my techs called me to tell me he was there, waiting. I figured the probability of being able to wait him out was low, yet I took my sweet time making my way back to the pharmacy. As I lingered in my safe place, I received another call from a tech in the pharmacy telling me that I needed to come up there, because they were both in front of the pharmacy. She was pulling on his arm, begging him to leave. He wasn't budging. She took off again, and he continued to wait for me. It's nice to have an experience that allowed me to measure my level of cowardice...or my lack of assertiveness. I decided I had better head back and talk to him. He didn't look furious, though his wife told me he would be. The fellow instead very calmly and sincerely professed that he loves his wife more than she realizes and that he would not be mad at her if he finds out the truth. At this point he was nearly in tears pleading with me to tell the truth and let him know what his wife has been up to. Well, can't do it. Pretty sure I've watched/read enough HIPAA training modules to know that I've got to keep my mouth shut. I thanked him for his caring concern for his woman, but once again, I couldn't say anything more regarding her actions that day. Then he REALLY laid on the pressure, and I had to kindly excuse myself and get back to work processing prescriptions, because that's what pays me. I'm not getting paid to mediate for these basket cases. After he left, I got another call from HER. She wasn't too pleased with me. She yelled, "Kristin, what have you done?! He's going to leave me!" I asked her if that's what he said he would do. She said that her husband told her he would be supportive, but he wants to hear the truth from her and wants her to get the help she needs. In her mind, that's the same as abandonment and divorce. I didn't get that vibe from him, but then again, maybe certain sleep meds give a person special powers of fabricating inferences. Gotta try it sometime maybe. Anyway, my hometown person pretty much told me I suck. I haven't seen her since. It's been years, but thanks to social media, I can see that she's still married. It's hard to tell through Facebook whether or not she's addicted to a pill, since I sort of got the boot as a Facebook friend. It's pretty sad story, but I hope there's a drugless happily ever after for her.

Another Jumper

As stated previously, all the best stuff at the pharmacy happens while I'm chillin' at home. Last week, a man was found on the roof of a large store in which the pharmacy resides. He was creating quite a scene while threatening to jump. Mentioned in his rant was the pharmacy and how it was ruining his life. He spoke of his hatred for the pharmacy and the "idiots" who work within its walls. The funny part? I don't believe he's ever filled prescriptions or had any dealings with the pharmacy located inside the store. Pharmacies have a reputation for ruining lives, so whichever pharmacy he was referring to just needs to knock it off, and we're glad the dude didn't get knocked off...the roof. (He was brought down to ground level without too much incident.)

Paranoid

This happened several months ago, but when I was cleaning out some files at home, I came across a little paper with some details of a phone conversation I had with a patient. 

A woman called to inform that she was being poisoned. I asked her why she felt this way. She explained that a medication she had been taking for years was suddenly causing her to feel weak and distressed. She couldn't really explain the exact symptoms she was having, but she adamantly insisted that she felt something was definitely wrong the day after she picked up the latest refill of her medication three days earlier. As she was talking, it became clear to me that she was sure the source of the "poison" was her prescription medication. She asked me who supplied our drugs and if there was any way that supplier knew that she was getting medications at our pharmacy. I wish I had a picture to show you the expression I had on my face at that moment. I did my best to assure her that the pharmacy's wholesaler was not involved in some kind of conspiracy to poison her. Then she wanted to know who the manufacturer of the medication was and if THEY knew she filled prescriptions at our pharmacy. I asked her why she thought someone would want to poison her. She responded, "I have no idea! That's what I'm trying to figure out, and that's why I called you!" Wow. After I convinced her that the manufacturer had no interest in poisoning random patients and that others who were taking the same tablets had reported no difficulty, she asked me if I knew whether or not the manufacturer had recently changed the "recipe" of the pills. The expression on my face became even more picture-worthy. She pleaded with me to call the manufacturer to ask them what they put in that particular lot of medication. I assured her I would call right away. (Yeah, right.) She made me promise that when I called them, however, that I not give them her name, because if they were trying to poison her, they'd know that she was on to them. I promised her complete discretion. I never called her back, and she never called me again. It would seem she really was being poisoned. Hmmm....

Flu Shot PSA

Flu shots. Are. The. Bane. Of. My. Existence. I'm not here to debate efficacy and safety of the yearly flu shot, although, I would recommend that you NOT get one IF you come to one of my pharmacies WHILE I'm working. Did I mention before how I don't enjoy administering flu shots? If you HAVE to get one, however, here are some tips/facts to consider before you request a flu shot from your friendly (so that wouldn't be me) neighborhood pharmacist:

1. Wear short sleeves. If I have to explain this to you, then you're probably one of the morons treasured patients who wears a long-sleeve turtleneck sweater when requesting a flu shot.

2. Don't ask the pharmacist if they've given a shot before or if they know what they're doing. You'll get a half smile. Perhaps you'll get a full smile. Maybe you'll get a maniacal laugh. Don't ask the question(s) unless you're prepared for the answer(s).

3. Take your kid(s) to the pediatrician for their flu shot. If you'd really like me to, I could stick a needle in your kid. I've been trained; I'm certified. I know you don't want to pay for an office visit, but as much as pharmacists don't like poking even the most obnoxious adult, we really REALLY don't like poking your child. Also, in the rare event that an adverse reaction occurs, do you really want me to be in charge of helping/saving your precious angel?

4. Relax your arm. If I tell you to relax your arm, I don't want you to make a ball with your fist. I'm not shooting heroin into a vein, although that may be the type of needle encounter some might be used to. I promise it hurts less if you just let go. Deep thoughts...from your pharmacist, I know...

5. Don't jump. Jumpers are what my nightmares are made of. Make a conscious decision ahead of time, and repeat to yourself, "I will not thrash about wildly while a 1 inch needle is plunged into my shoulder."

6. Just have fun. By this I mean stay home and do something fun. Refer back to the intro of this post.

Thank you for taking the time to read this public service announcement.

Questions

I'm often asked, "What's the weirdest question you've been asked at the pharmacy?" It's hard to pick a winner. This site is filled with examples of strange questions, so I'll let you be the judge. I will, however, share the following question that has not made it into a blog post:

What's the lethal dose of morphine for a bird?

Too Elaborate

This twisted tale takes place in a small town. It also involves Plan B (a.k.a. the morning-after pill.) A patient called and asked if she could purchase some. It sounds easy enough. Usually, a person walks in, asks the pharmacy clerk for the item, pays for it and then leaves. That plan was far too simple for this experienced woman. Here are the step-by-step instructions she wanted us to follow to complete the transaction:

1. Find an innocent item, or items, in the pharmacy which would equal the cost of the Plan B.
2. Scan the item(s) and return it/them to the pharmacy shelf.
3. Produce a receipt showing cash payment of the item(s), though no payment would be received until a later hour.
4. If possible, gift wrap the box of Plan B and place it into a bag within a bag with the receipt for items from step 1 attached to the outer bag.
5. Take exact cash from one of her minions at a later undisclosed hour. The amount will equal the item(s) from step 1.
6. Instruct the minion to take the package to a 3rd party...or 4th party, I think.
7. Instruct the minion to instruct the receiver of the package to place the package on the back seat, driver side, of his/her vehicle at 5:30 PM and to leave the vehicle unlocked until 5:45 PM.

This lady gets a prize for ingenuity, but she receives a demerit for dishonesty and lack of common sense. She didn't plan on one thing, however. The pharmacist knows her quite well, and if I wanted to ruin all her hard work, I'd approach her with the advice to just try using good old-fashioned birth control methods.

A Day Off

It seems like lately all the best pharmacy stories happen while I'm at home. I'm especially sad I missed out on this one. Recently, a man pulled up in the drive-thru of one of my pharmacies and handed over a bunch of empty prescription vials for medications he needed refilled. One technician took special care to make sure the bottles were empty before disposing of them. As she unlidded (my made-up word for the day) one of the vials, she noticed a plant-like substance stuffed inside. Upon further inspection, she found that plant to be --- marijuana. Oops! So, here's some advice for my readers. Don't stash your weed in a vial in your legal drug pile.

A Rare Occurrence

Happy American Pharmacist Month! It's been so amazingly amazing thus far that I've been left speechless...3 times!

#1 Cause of Speechlessness: I was seated at a table near the entrance of one of my pharmacies during a health fair. My job was to encourage people to take advantage of the free health screenings, healthy snacks and immunizations. A middle-aged woman dressed in scrubs approached me. I welcomed her quite warmly and said, "I'll bet you've had your flu shot." She fired back, "NO way! I refuse REFUSE to put that poison into my body. I stopped getting flu shots years ago, and if you think for one second you're fooling me, you are dead wrong. They do nothing, and they're good for nothing. I'll bet you didn't know those shots have mercury, and mercury builds up in your body over time and shuts down your heart. It poisons your mind. It poisons your whole body. And that stuff you have there that you're putting into people is to cure last year's flu, and they can't cure viruses. If they could, they'd be able to cure cancer, because cancer is a virus. So GOODbye and NO THANK YOU!" Um, wow. A strange grin remained frozen on my face for that entire thing, and my head did a sort of bob.

#2 Cause of Speechlessness: I decided to help out at the register during a particularly busy moment. A woman gave me her name and birth date, thus allowing me to access information on the computer regarding a prescription she was wishing to pick up. The prescription in question was for colonoscopy bowel prep. It's horrible stuff --- or so I've heard. One day, I realize, I will have the pleasure of partaking of that nasty drink, but until then, I feel it's my duty to lift the broken-hearted and downtrodden souls who must swallow it. So, I said to this woman, with my eyebrows partially raised, "Oh, I see you're here to add a little fun to your week." She responded, most seriously, "It's not fun. Why would you say that!?" Okay, she missed the sarcasm. That's understandable. I continued, "Indeed, it is not fun." She immediately cut in, "Then why did you say it was fun? You are being VERY unprofessional!" That's where the speechlessness began to set in. I tried a different approach. "Okay, well, uh...I...uh...I'm sure you'll be glad when it's all over." Then, she said, "I can't believe how unprofessional you are. Really? Wow. Just very unprofessional." All I could muster at that point was an "Oh." I completed the transaction and gave her helpful instructions regarding flavoring options, reconstitution, and instructions. Then, she flew away. I mean, she walked away. I've never been called "unprofessional." Have I ever been unprofessional? Sure, like 687 times; however, I get called out THIS time?

#3 Cause of Speechlessness: Some dude wanted a flu shot today. As a side note, I HATE giving shots. Though October is American Pharmacist Month, it should be renamed, "Let's Create a Living Hell for the American Pharmacist Month" because of how many people want flu shots during the month. Anyway, I slipped into my fancy blue nitrile non-latex gloves and prepared the shot. Right at that moment, a technician asked me to hand her some blank immunization questionnaires we had in a stack. I then called the patient into the shot room. He sat his grumpy self down and asked, "Okay, one thing I wanna know is, are ya gonna change your gloves?" He could tell I looked puzzled by his request and continued, "I saw you walking back and forth and putting your hands all over all that stuff." Huh? I responded, "I didn't touch anything that I can remember." He shot back, "Oh don't lie to me. I watched you walk out of that room all over and touching all that stuff." I asked, "You mean you watched me step out for a second and hand papers to someone?" He yelled, "Yes! You touched those papers, and then those people, I have no idea who they are, were touching them too." Ah, he and I agreed that I had touched some papers and had only moved a step or two. I pointed to the stack of questionnaires and said, "Oh, those papers just came from that pile." He said, "No, they didn't. I don't know where those papers have been!" I mean, it is true that people lick various pieces of paper from the pile, and on occasion, we line the floor of the restroom with them before they end up in that pile, but how did he know that? He continued, "So are you gonna change those gloves or not!?" I hadn't been scolded like that since...well...I can't really remember, so it left me...speechless. I inaudibly mumbled, "These gloves are more to protect me from the patient, but I guess I'll waste a pair of gloves." Then, for the first time in 3 years, I didn't hate giving a shot.

If you're over 65, don't read this.

Senior citizens basically fund my paycheck; however, they also fund my frustration. I'll provide an example. Yesterday, one of these 65+ ladies called to refill some prescriptions. I answered the phone and decided to help her with the refills because all of the technicians were busy, and I'm a pharmacist of the people. Sometimes I'm too good for you. Other times I step away from my throne and scepter to offer help. Anyway, out of habit, I asked if she had her prescription numbers handy. She replied, "Well now, I don't know if I can see these darn things." I quickly told her that I didn't really need the numbers and that I could refill her prescriptions anyway. It was too late. She had put down the phone to find her glasses. In the meantime, I could hear her cussing about not being able to locate those glasses. Then she came back on and told me it would be a moment before she would be able to read the numbers. I tried to tell her once more that I didn't need them. Too late again. She had put down the phone to continue to cuss while looking for her glasses. Then, she found her glasses. What happened next? She began to push the digits of her prescription numbers on the phone keypad. I tried to stop her, but she just kept pushing those numbers. I heard her say, "I think I got 'em." Then, she hung up.

He's 2!

If you're a parent, you may have had the experience of a complete stranger taking up the task of correcting your child. If you're like me, you just kinda grin and treat that stranger like they are the most amazingly perfect person on the planet, and that, without them, your child would have become a menace to society. Something a little different happened at the pharmacy yesterday. A darling 2-year-old was coughing a little while his cute, quiet mother was standing in line to pick up prescription. The lady in front of her in line, who had just finished being rung up, turned to the mother and said, "Does he know how to cover his mouth?" As that woman stormed off, the mother yelled to her, "He has allergies and asthma, you freaking moron! He's 2, you stupid idiot! What the *&% #*#? You moron! Yeah, walk away. Keep walking. Of course he isn't going to cover his mouth, he's freaking 2! YOU suck, you freaking idiot. He's 2!" That was something I wanted to back away from, but I felt her piercing eyes upon me right after that incident. A nervous shoulder shrug is all I could offer. I know, I usually have something to say. While I can see the dual perspective, it's interesting to imagine those two women stuck on an elevator together. Karma would have me stuck on that elevator with them, I'm sure, so let's just stop there.  

Question of the Week

"Can I use Abreva for my genital herpes outbreak?" --- Some dude who has had herpes since the 80s and came equipped with a plethora of dumb and/or disgusting questions

We Failed the NuvaRing Girl

Do you know what a NuvaRing is? You can read up on it here: http://www.nuvaring.com/consumer/. If you didn't click that link, I'll just tell you that it's a prescription contraceptive that you insert somewhere. Somehow, a girl made it through a doctor visit and a pharmacy visit without understanding what she was supposed to do with that thing. She came into the pharmacy a few days after she picked up her prescription to ask if we had a bigger one. She held up her wrist to show us it was cutting off circulation. I'll give her credit for getting that ring over her hand, but my goodness!

Boogie

Please don't save your boogers in a tissue to bring in to show the pharmacist and to ask his or her opinion on whether or not you have a sinus infection. Thanks in advance. 

Balls

The title should warn you that this post is a wee bit graphic. Read on at your own risk. I was telling a patient about his new prescription, a muscle relaxant. At the end of my consult, he asked if it would relax all of his muscles. I told him the medication didn't target a specific muscle and that yes, it would. Then he asked, "Will it even relax my balls?" I paused to wait for the smile to come to his face, but he was totally serious. It's a valid concern, I suppose.

Lost in Translation?

A foreign tourist was asking for my advice regarding constipation. He spoke English fairly well, but I'm hoping that he either wanted to joke with me or had a lapse in language skills when he confessed to me that trying to "dig it out with a spoon" hadn't worked. Did I have anything "stronger" that might work? Hmmm...