I’m a pharmacy technician. My pharmacist is counting out some medication on a tray using one of the metal spatulas. Usually, we count in fives, and you get pretty good at doing it quickly.

A customer comes up and is waiting on a prescription, so my pharmacist goes back and quickly starts to count out the medication. Right after she caps it, the customer looks at her in awe and asks 100% seriously:

Customer: “How does that magic stick thing know how many pills are in the bottle?”

The customer didn’t realize that she was the one doing the counting. I was caught between amazement and laughter.

I work in a retail pharmacy chain. A customer calls asking if we carry a certain vaccine.

Me: “We do. You just have to make an appointment online.”

Customer: “Great! My daughter’s school will be happy to hear this.”

“Ohhhhh, no,” I think.

Me: “Ma’am, how old is your daughter?”

Customer: “Oh, seventeen. That’s okay, right, since it’s sixteen and up for the vaccine?”

Yes, it is sixteen and up, but I’m pretty sure my training unit just covered this. I tell her I’m going to confirm something with the pharmacist and put her on hold. Sure enough, while her daughter is eligible to receive the vaccine, by state law, pharmacists cannot administer it to anyone under eighteen.

The customer is less than happy. She goes from cheerful and polite to quite displeased, telling me her daughter’s high school is going to keep her daughter from returning to school if she doesn’t receive the shot by Monday.

I say, in customer service language, the equivalent of, “Sorry, lady, but as much as I empathize, I can’t break state law for you.” The pharmacist returns and suggests that she call her pediatrician or an urgent care clinic. She’s getting frustrated, saying that they are all out of stock of the vaccine. She even begs us to give her a vial of the vaccine to take with her to someone who can administer it.

I eventually have to end the call and wish her luck in her search. She groans:

Customer: “Living in [State] is a curse, d*** it!”

And she hung up.

As much as she didn’t lash out, she definitely tried to make as much of a fuss as possible, repeating over and over that her daughter would be kept from school. I don’t know what she expected me to do! And besides, she’d had so much time to plan for this. Why would you wait until three days before your daughter will be held at home?!

My doctor writes me [Prescription #1] in late June, which I fill at [Pharmacy #1]. [Prescription #1] has zero pre-approved refills. I’m also referred to a specialist to get [Prescription #2]. My doctor later sends an email passing my care entirely on to the specialist (which I’m okay with).

I have my first appointment with the specialist in mid-September, where we discuss her taking over [Prescription #1]. She does ask, but I’m not due for a refill at the time so we don’t do one. Due to convenience and a tight schedule that day, I fill [Prescription #2] at [Pharmacy #2], another branch of the same chain as [Pharmacy #1]. [Prescription #2] has three pre-approved refills.

About six weeks later, I’m due for the refill on [Prescription #1]. I call the specialist’s office to ask about the process. I’m told to just have [Pharmacy #1] fax over the request.

I call [Pharmacy #1] and give them the fax number for the specialist. It slips my mind for a couple of weeks until I get an alert saying it’s delayed.

I don’t want to panic, so I wait a few days to see if it will un-delay itself. I’m still good for meds. After a week with no change, I call [Pharmacy #1]. It’s now three weeks since I put in the refill request.

[Pharmacy #1] simply hasn’t heard back from the specialist, despite sending multiple faxes. I explain the whole situation about the doctor switch, and they confirm that they sent the faxes to the correct specialist. They send another fax while we’re on the call.

The next day, I call the specialist’s office to see if they have any information on the delay. I explain the multiple faxes and the doctor switch, and they inform me they’ve only received the fax from yesterday.

I’m told it’s a two-week turnaround. After the fortnight is up, [Pharmacy #1] still hasn’t heard from the specialist. I call the specialist, and I’m told again to just have [Pharmacy #1] fax it over. I tell them I won’t have any meds left to keep waiting like this. I’m brushed off and told that the pharmacy can extend it at their own discretion 

I call [Pharmacy #1] and have them extend the prescription. I’m told the extension will be for one month, which will get me to my next specialist visit with a few days to spare

I pick up the extension, and it’s only for two weeks. I call the specialist one more time, and I now learn that they returned the paperwork two days after receiving that lone fax weeks prior.

I get into another fortnight of musical faxes and another pharmacy extension. In the midst of this chaos, I now need to refill [Prescription #2].

I call [Pharmacy #2], and the refill on [Prescription #2] is ready in two days. I stop in to pick it up.

Me: “Hi. I’m here to pick up [Prescription #2] for [My Name], please.”

The pharmacist confirms my information.

Pharmacist: “Okay… It looks like there’s a second one for you here, as well.” 

Guess where [Prescription #1] ended up?

In the end, I got my meds, and having them at the same pharmacy makes sense, but I don’t know how nobody — me included — thought to check which pharmacy the specialist’s office sent the paperwork to.

I am a pharmacy clerk doing the last part of my shift when I see a man hobble in with an untidy look.

Man: *Hurriedly* “Do you have any gloves?”

Me: “Uh… what do you need those for?”

Man: “I need use-and-throw ones. I had a biological trash bag explode on me. Well, okay, actually, it was a biohazard one… Y’know how it goes.”

Uneasily, I pull out a box of latex gloves.

Me: “Would a hundred-pack be good?”

Man: “Yes. Yes, it will. Can I get some medical-grade disinfectant and bandages while I’m at it?”

Me: “Uh… sure.”

I gave him what he asked for, and as soon as he got the bag, he slammed down a 50-Euro note and ran out without picking up the change. I was left uneasy; just what the heck actually happened to make him rush so much — and need all that stuff to boot?

I work in a pharmacy. I get a call from a relative of a young patient who regularly picks up for the patient.

Me: “[Pharmacy], how can I help you?”

Caller: “This relative of mine needs a medication refilled; otherwise, her school will kick her out for the week.”

We confirm the details, and it’s for a controlled medication.

Me: “I’m sorry, but I can’t refill this yet. She still has four days left, and by law, we cannot refill it until she’s on day twenty-nine.”

Caller: “I know that, but can’t I just buy one pill?”

Me: “It’s a highly controlled prescription. We can’t just sell one pill to someone, and we can’t refill it yet.”

Caller: “But she needs it for school! Are you sure I can’t just buy one pill? Can I talk to the pharmacist?”

Me: “Sure. Give me a moment.”

I put them on hold and talk to the pharmacist.

Me: “Hey, there’s a person on line one who wants to pick up for [Patient], [date of birth], and wants to buy just one pill.”

The pharmacist looks annoyed but answers the phone. A lot of the conversation I hear is what I already said.

Pharmacist: “I can’t sell you just one pill of any medication, especially a controlled one.”

Pause.

Pharmacist: “Because I’d go to jail.”

Pause.

Pharmacist: “Well, yes, I would mind.”