This week has been A WEEK, and I’ve only worked three shifts.
Tuesday, a woman came to the register with her son in tow: a typical, awkward, 11 or 12 year old, with shaggy hair. His face bore a look that said he was praying to the universe to be swallowed by the earth then and there. “He’s got a problem”, she told me. “I can’t tell if he has dandruff or lice. Can you take a look?” Lemme get the pharmacist for you.
Yesterday, MusicMan dealt with The Rash. It’s been some time since we’ve had a rash viewing, and they always make me happy I’m not allowed to counsel people. Got a question? Lemme get the pharmacist for you.
The store manager came back to the pharmacy yesterday. There was a patient up front who would like me to bring her prescriptions to her. She recently had back surgery and is in a lot of pain, and it’s too difficult to come to the back. This isn’t a problem. I run her stuff up front and ring her out. It’s obvious she’s in a lot of pain, and she has difficulty standing so she leans on her cart.
When we’re done, she asks if I can walk out to her car with her. I walked beside her and held onto the cart to steady it. She was smart to ask for an escort. No sooner did she let go of the cart to get into the car, when her legs gave out. I caught her on the first fall, but she insisted I leave her on the ground when she fell the second time. One of the cashiers saw what was happening and got the two managers. In the meantime, the patient sits on the ground and insists we don’t need to call the ambulance, her legs are just numb. She’ll be fine, she insisted.
I don’t get paid enough for this.
It’s a split shift today, and we have two pharmacists. MusicMan will work the morning, and someone else will be in for the second have of the day. I want to go in, do my job, and leave. I have too much on my plate to deal with any more pharmacy drama this week.
Today is Shawshank‘s last day in Camp Quarantine. He’s not sure what time he’ll leave tomorrow. He said probably leave sometime around lunchtime. He’ll catch a cab to the the airport; thankfully, it’s not too far from the hotel. Unfortunately, he’ll be stuck in the airport for almost 24 hours, since his flight isn’t until Saturday morning. It’s not ideal, but it is what it is. He’ll be fine.
I can’t decide if I want to stop for groceries on my way home tonight, or hold off until Saturday morning. Tomorrow is a gathering at BossRPh‘s house, and I won’t have my regular fun food to celebrate the end of the week. I think I’ll hold off until Saturday. The trip out for food will keep me distracted from wondering how Shawshank will be. I’ll be fine.
