Remember last July, when The Pony broke his ankle, and couldn't catch a break? Well. It's happened again with his burned hand. The only difference being that his hand was of his own doing, and nothing at all related to work, so there's no salary and medical bills to recoup.
In the 3-part series on my not-so-secret blog, I related how the person who wrapped The Pony's burned hand at the urgent care did not seem to have even rudimentary knowledge of basic first aid. I could have done a better job of it at 12, after reading my dad's old Boy Scout Manual. In fact, I even wondered if perhaps the janitor, and not a nurse practitioner, had wrapped that hand. Not throwing shade at janitors--they could probably have done a better job if it, too.
The staff gave The Pony the ends of the gauze and stretchy-stuff tape for future wrapping. They asked where he wanted his burn ointment prescription called-in. The Pony named a CeilingReds over by The Devil's Playground. His reasoning being that he was delivering on that route the next day, and could pick up his ointment when he dropped off their mail. Of course you know what happened. THE OINTMENT WASN'T THERE!
So The Pony had wasted a whole day of work, still didn't have his burn ointment, and no time to call around to find out what happened to his prescription. I learned of it when he sent me a text at 5:30, when I was halfway home, and couldn't call or stop by the urgent care to inquire. The Pony was still on his route.
Anyhoo... on Wednesday, I got home and checked the phone messages. There was a call from MY pharmacy, NearMin, saying that they had a prescription ready for The Pony Hillbilly. Yes. It was after 6:00, their closing time, when I heard the message. I sent The Pony a text.
"WHAT? So they completely disregarded all the information I filled out with my burned hand? And didn't even listen when I told them where to send that prescription?"
"Well, it was the pharmacy who called here. And a couple times you did get a prescription there. But I have no idea why urgent care sent that prescription to the wrong pharmacy."
"I am not even going to bother with it now. My hand is healing, and I don't have time for this."
"You're not going to call and tell them you don't want it?"
"No. I'm not going to bother with it."
"Okay. I'll call them. Just so they know."
Which I did, the next day, and explained that it was sent to the wrong place, and a week had passed since THE BURNING, and it wasn't needed. They asked for The Pony's birthdate, then said they'd pull that prescription. Easy peasy. A rare job done right.
4 comments:
I shouldn't be astonished at the incompetence, but I am.
River,
A person doing a job right these days is like a UNICORN! And then we dare to be displeased with them for their competence, like that little gal who scanned my scratcher at Orb K and told me it was worth less than I thought!
That was considerate of you to call. They would have simply returned it to stock after a call to let the patient know it was there and no response was forthcoming. Nothing surprises me anymore when it comes to getting information correctly.
Kathy,
I figured they might as well put that ointment back, and have it available to sell again, since I knew The Pony wasn't going to pick it up. And save them another phone call to remind him. No use dragging it out.
People just don't listen any more! Like when I took my new insurance card by the pharmacy to have them make a copy, so my next refill call could be processed. Yet they took it upon themselves to refill two of the prescriptions early, without me requesting them.
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