“Why do you do that so much, Jim?” said a member of the out-front management.
“What?” I was re-stocking a few OTC products that had been left on the pharmacy counter.
“I see you out front talking to customers all the time. The other pharmacists usually just tell them what aisle to go to. You practically take them by the hand. You take our private label off the shelf and put it right in their hand. I have heard you say, ‘Saving you money is my job’. Why do you do that?”
“I do it because I love it. It is a chance to make a difference. The private label is a no-brainer. The quality of the products cannot be questioned. It saves the customer money and the company makes a better return on investment.”
The ‘love it’ part gets more points on a scale of one to ten. I know that I have bitched mightily about not getting paid for providing valuable triage services in other places.
What I am talking about here are the warm fuzzies I get from helping people, the satisfaction I get when a worried mother’s face relaxes, the sincere ‘thank you’s I get when the meager offerings of their pocket book is able to afford an OTC that just might help.
I even pay sometimes. Sick of Stupid People writes big checks to help her patients who would have to go without. I don’t put out big money. I give a few dollars here, a few there, because it makes a difference. I sometimes think that we are, after all, the only medical professionals who see real, feeling, hurting human beings. The others see cattle.
On a Friday night, about 9:00 PM, a young woman asked how much her Rx for SMZ/TMP DS would cost. Her husband said that they had just enough, but it was in a safe place in the car. When I was talking to her while we waited for the money, I asked if she had any stinging and burning. (Have you noticed that these guys are not writing for phenazopyridine on a regular basis? What’s up with that? There is pain!)
“The stinging is terrible.” She frowned. Her husband was back.
“I can help that for less than six dollars,” I said.
She looked at her husband who said, “I will only have about three left after I pay you.”
I paused. “I’ll pick up the balance,” I said. He paid in quarters, dimes and nickels. Their emergency money.
I got my wallet out and settled with the company. “Are you hungry?”
They looked at each other. “We’ll be okay,” the husband said.
“Where are you staying?” Galveston is a resort/vacation spot. They were from West Texas. Galveston? With no money?
“My aunt invited us down, but there was a note on the door. She is gone until tomorrow. We’ll be alright. The van is big. We’ve slept in it before.”
“Are you hungry?”
“Yes, we are.” They both avoided my eyes. I gave them a twenty.
Certainly not Saltgrass money, but there is a Taco Bell right down Broadway.
I felt real good. They may have taken Jay Pee, but it is on them. I paid some karma off. If they frikkin’ worked me and ended up in the van laughing at me. well.. it is on them. Bad karma. They will pay.
Is that practicing pharmacy? Yes, I think so!
Oh, the Rx came from UTMB emergency. This poor medical center has the 19th century duty to give free medical care to indigents from anywhere in Texas. It is not sustainable in the 21st Century.
Emergency! I can see the value of the in-store clinics where a nurse practitioner could prescribe SMZ/TMP DS for twenty bucks.
Why can’t they have cheap/free clinics where these people can go? Unnecessary Emergency Room visits drain the entire system.