I had barely gotten into work yesterday when the shitshow began. There was a pile of “to-do” bullshit, an entire shopping basket and two smaller baskets filled with drugs we ordered for someone once and never dispensed again, and a note that said “try to return these”. Because there’s nothing else to do on Mondays, right?
The baskets of overstock weren’t that bad a problem. It’s end endless source of amusement to me, actually. Often, I’ll process a “return me” basket, only to end up with the same product back on the shelf after a week. Friday, I created a return for no less than eight boxes of Tamiflu, which left us with about the same amount on our shelf. The drug was picked up during yesterday morning’s warehouse delivery, which included eight boxes of Tamiflu.
The real kicker was that within two minutes of punching in for my shift, I’ve got a pharmacist waving an email at me, demanding to know if it was taken care of on Friday. I tell her I’ve got no idea what it even is, let alone whether it was handled. “Well, I’m not going to waste my time doing it if BossRPh already did it.” Again, I don’t know what it is.
“It’s about that big recall, you’d know if you’d done it, it was in the email.” Oh, that’s helpful, especially considering I don’t have corporate email. She fucking knows this. So, I look into when that particular recall went through and tell her I handled the original recall nearly a month ago.
“But I need to know if this was handled!” I give up at this point. I’ve been on the clock for approximately six minutes, and I’m already plotting how best to set fire to the place and make my getaway.
