A not so happy new years..

Days in a pharmacy typically go by in blurs. Often you remember items, but you may not recall details. I suppose that's the mind's way of dealing with a flood of information all day long. Usually, with some thought, you can gather specific details about an item when you start to think about it.

We had a patient die on New Years Eve. That, in itself, is not too much of a newsworthy item on a daily basis. We lose patients all the time, its just a fact of the job and you become somewhat accustomed to it. Except this patient died right after leaving the pharmacy. We were his last stop.. well ever.

I know who the man is. He would get a little antsy for some of his drugs, notably his Ambien, but generally he was a nice guy. One of the faces you would recognize once he came in. He was probably what I call a second-tier customer (that explanation is coming in a later post).

And I was, for all intensive purposes, the last person he ever talked to. I remembered him coming in because I had worked all day to get the okay on his Ambien for him, which we had faxed on over a week ago. I remember him picking it up. I remember seeing him go. But for the life of me I cannot remember anything else about that moment.

Was I nice to him? Did I ask him about his Christmas? Did I wish him a Happy New Years? Or was I in such a rush that I more or less blew him off to get back to other scripts. I really don't know.

I would like to think his last interaction with a human was a pleasant one, but I honestly don't know. I've been racking my brain all day trying to remember, but I just can't. Weird how that works eh?

I suppose I could chalk it up to another facet of the profession, but it's one of the few times over the years that I have actually been bothered by something. Guess I'm not as made of stone at work as I thought.