Ego Check, Pharmacy Dept

I just have to tell you this story. I debated, because I don’t want this to be a place to vent frustrations, rather I want it to be a documentation of your life and our memories together. But this is a prime example of the type of people we often have to deal with, and it makes me crazy.

I picked up your cholesterol medication from a Walgreens on Dairy Ashford and Memorial this afternoon. Not super far, but could definitely be closer. Especially during traffic when I have to cross I10. When I arrived home, I unloaded you kids, got everyone situated, and then took the bottle out of the bag to place in the fridge. I didn’t even lay my eyes on it before I knew that it wasn’t right—the feel was completely wrong. So I examined it more closely, poured some into a med cup and it was immediately obvious to me that the actual medication wasn’t added to the cherry aqueous solution. They basically just gave me syrup.

Irritated (at them and myself—I know better than to leave the pharmacy without checking) I called Walgreens, was placed on hold, and then explained the situation. I was transferred to the compound pharmacist who, without listening to what I had to say, insisted it was fine. Because he did it himself. As if that should convince me my senses are wrong, and it does in fact look, feel, and smell correct. Round and round we go. I tell him what I have: very pink, thin, clear fluid; how it should look: white, thick, opaque. He says he remembered measuring it out. I tell him that after almost 3 years of giving you cholesterol, I am very familiar with its characteristics and this is not right. He tells me that he just ground it so thin I can’t see it. I tell him I won’t give it to you, it might as well be sugar water. Finally he agrees, “if it makes me feel more comfortable” I can come up there and watch him measure it out as he does it again. I am on my way.

So I pack you two back up and leave during 5 o’clock traffic. You vomit on a huge stretch of road with no shoulder to pull off onto. Jesus protected your airway during that time, but I am getting crankier by the minute. This guy better fly right when I get there.

I stand in line for several minutes before speaking with anyone behind the counter. I am asked to step aside to the consultation window, where I wait for another 5 minutes or so to speak with the pharmacist. I again tell him I am certain there is no medication, or if there is it is the wrong medication. I (from experience) never throw out a bottle of meds until I get a new one. So I brought last month’s bottle with me so that he could see from the remnants the difference in appearance. I hand the bottles over and he just holds them. He explains the process (of which I am fully aware) and tries to convince me that he did it so well that I can’t see the med. That he somehow managed to take the stick and the grit out of CHOLESTEROL. I am totally not buying. Why then wasn’t able to accomplish that feat last month? He agrees to remake it but has yet to crack open the bottles I brought him. So I reach over taking the bottles back and start opening the lids and ask him for cups to pour them into. He just sort of stands there and I ask him point blank, “Are you going to look at these or do you not even care?” His response?

“No. Not really.”

Are you kidding me? Seriously? I have no words. Literally, my brain went into shock and I don’t even know what I said. He scooped up my bottles and walked off so fast that so I might not have even had a chance to say anything. Which was wise, because any longer to process, I might have leaped over that counter and clobbered him.

I sit in the waiting area, stewing. Griping to Aunt Paula and Daddy via text. And in that time I decide that I am never coming back to this Walgreens…or any other for that matter. I have always hated the one by our house. The customer service is abhorrent. I also resolve to speak with the manager (but at a later date because I hate confrontation and don’t want him to call over the pharmacist while I’m there). And that this guy needs a new career. There are certain jobs that you have to be 100% right every single time. Mixing prescriptions is one of those jobs. Your cholesterol doesn’t mean life or death in the short term. But other people’s scripts do. If he wasn’t sure the medication was added, the action seems obvious to me. Throw it out and start over.

But if a pharmacist does make a mistake, they HAVE to be humble enough to realize it, apologize, and make it right. I can’t let someone mix your medication who thinks that a mistake is beneath them. How will he learn? If he had just taken the time to compare the two bottles, he would not have been able to deny something was amiss. I don’t expect him to know what cholesterol should look like. He has only done this 3 times. But I do expect him to trust that I know how it should look. Or at least see it for himself. He was much too busy to extend me a moment’s courtesy for even that.

After about 15 minutes he brings out the components so I can watch him measure them. Really, this is unnecessary. I just need him to remake it, and include the cholesterol. He tells me he just won’t grind it as fine this time, so that it looks more like what I am used to. I tell him, “No. Please. Try to make it look the same. I would love that.” He understands this is a test. If it looks like it did before, I will know I was wrong. If it doesn’t, we will know he sold me a bottle of cherry aqueous solution with a cholesterol label. He warns me it will take 45 minutes, and I tell him I’ll wait.

And wait. And wait some more apparently. Liam has missed dinner, bedtime has come and gone, and he is quickly losing patience. You are overdue to eat also, but I suppose that will have to be postponed as well. I let Liam cause a little mayhem in the toy aisle. Just a little. I buy him passies and snacks and that gives us a couple moments of peace. We are settling in because I figure this guy eventually has to admit he was wrong, and I am determined to out-wait him.



After two hours of trying to grind the cholesterol into oblivion, the pharmacist shows me the finished product. I tell him that is exactly right, just what I initially expected. He says, “Well, I still have a little more of the syrup, if I pour it in, it will be more pink”. So I ask him to pour the syrup in a clear cup by itself so I can see it. And when he does, it looks exactly like what I was sent home with originally. I pull out my iPhone to show him the picture I had taken—and then watch as the realization dawns on him. He throws his head back a bit, almost as if slapped and mouths the word, “oh”. Still, his ego stays intact and he doesn’t deem an apology necessary. All he did was repeat, “If I put this in it will be pinker.” I told him to go ahead. I don’t care what color it is as long as the is cholesterol included.

All that man had to do from the start was say, “I’m sorry, I’ll remake it, come pick it up in a few hours.” Instead I had to take three hours out of my already busy evening to babysit him. At this point, I have your medication and a lot of the fight has drained from me. But I am still resolute to start looking for another pharmacy that is willing and able to make your cholesterol—even if only for principle. It will be another time consuming and near impossible task. Still, I can’t trust this pharmacy, so I have no choice. And I still feel like I should speak to the manager because a pharmacist with that attitude is dangerous. I will add it to my never ending to-do list.

Audrey, I wish I could say this is the first run in of this sort we have had with pharmacies. Of the five we have used, four make it clear they don’t care for their customers’ health or well being at all. We have had to wait ridiculous amounts of time to be told “come back later”, meds made wrong, in wrong quantities, and been given other customers’ meds altogether. There is the same lack of respect for customers or co-workers and zero pride in their work. Our neighborhood HEB is the only one that does a great job in both the medication they hand out and their customer service. Way to go HEB. I am going to beg them to make your cholesterol.

And pray that Mr. Ego takes a big dose humility.

To go, or not to go?

You, my love, did not enjoy our trip to the zoo. I don’t even have pictures because your face was red and puffy from crying. From the moment we took you out of the car and put you in the stroller, you began to fuss. We ended up carrying you through most of the morning. That wouldn’t have been so bad except it means (a) more sun exposure for you and (b) the person holding you had to juggle pushing the double stroller also, since Liam was out running around. We are getting to a point where we will have to make a decision I never thought would need to be made.

From very early on, I decided we would try to live our lives and treat you as normally as possible. I have seen a lot of families with special needs kids that stay at home because it is easier. They don’t take their kid to the usual kid places because the child doesn’t know any different. I would never judge those people because I know firsthand it is TOUGH. There are a lot of times that I know an event will be more exhausting than rewarding, but I pack you up and go anyway. There is no way for me to really know what you get out of outings like that, but I just feel like being around different people in different places is good for you, so we go. I never want you to be left out of family time and memories. Especially not just to make things easier or more convenient for us. And up until recently, your laidback attitude has made you the easier child to go places with, aside from the packing and planning and potentially awkward sick moments involved.

But these days you really don’t seem to be enjoying yourself. In fact, I would say you are definitely NOT enjoying yourself and act quite miserable. When I consider leaving you behind I feel terrible. But if you would truly be happier at home with a grandma, should I force you to go in order to ease my conscience? Is this just something we have to push through and then my easy-going girl will be back, or is this your new attitude toward being out of your comfort zone?

Clearly there is no right or easy answer. It doesn’t help that your disposition isn’t exactly predictable. While you hated the zoo, you loved Central Market. Both were outside, crowded and loud. This is just one of those things we will just have to ask God for guidance on, trust our gut and decide case by case. For now we are going to keep plugging away doing things as a family. And pray you get happy.

Finger Painting

Mema is over today while I catch up from being sick all last week. She participated in your VI session. And here is the pretty springtime art you made! A bunny and a butterfly. Beautiful!

The family that gets sick together...

Sticks together.

That is seriously the phrase I dreamt last night during my restless sleep, though the circumstances surrounding it fled the moment I awoke. If it's true, we are golden.

You, Daddy and I all got the same stomach bug (which apparently infected even my dreams). Being sick is hard enough. But being sick while having to take care of a sick someone else is nearly impossible. Each time you threw up I told you to “hurry, hurry” because I was fighting it off myself.

Today we are all over the worst of it, but feel horrible. Thankfully Bubby is still in his TV trance mode from while he was sick, so he has been happy to play in his room and watch videos most of the day. Daddy and I take turns sitting up with him while the other naps the day away with you.

Quick(ish) ER Trip

Brother is sick. Daddy is sick. And yesterday you started feeling warm. I gave you a dose of Tylenol and you slept fairly well through the night. Liam, however, did not. He sounded like a creaky door with each inhale and exhale.

So this morning when you woke up looking worse than last night, I decided might as well take you to the doctor if I am taking him to the med center. So I called both doctors at 8:30, and got him an appointment for 11:30. The special needs clinic office personnel told me that there was only one nurse returning calls, so it might be awhile before I heard back to see if there was an opening. Honey came over by 9:00a, but since I had decided showering was a necessity for me, we weren’t ready to leave yet. You had fallen back asleep and I left you for last minute. Once you woke up, it was clear you were not doing well at all. You were pale, lethargic, your fever was up and you sounded horrible. You coughed and sputtered the entire way into town. As we got closer (about 10:30) I decided you were more concerning than Liam, and needed to be seen first. Having not heard back from the nurse I gave the clinic a call. Before I could even explain your situation, she interrupted me to say, “Mom, now remember I TOLD you we only have one nurse between two clinics. You are just going to have to be patient.” Uh. No.

Me: Well, I am calling to see if it is going to be so long that I need to take her to the ER instead.

Her: Mom, I can’t make that decision for you. If you think she is that bad, then go ahead and take her. But we take calls based on urgency, so it might be awhile before you hear back.

Me: It’s urgent. I’ll take her to the ER.

Goodness. That really ticked me off. So since I was aggravated, I took you to the ER. Now, here’s the deal. Since your doctor is at TCH anyway, the ER is just the bottom level. It’s not really like, oh no, you were in the ER. Basically I just wanted someone to look at you right away, and I knew they would. Last time you had this exact same thing, we waited too long before going to the ER and you ended up in emergency surgery, and intubated for 4 days. I was determined to avoid that again. And I was just angry.

Honey drops us off and we head inside. They take us back right away and two nurses ask all the standard questions. You actually don’t look as rough there as you did at home, and I haven’t heard a single cough since we came inside, so I spend some time convincing them you really are sick. Your arms and legs are modelled (I have a feeling that is not how it is spelled) and that is what concerns them. I explain that it actually IS much worse than usual, but we do always expect some of that from you. Right away they take us to a room and a different nurse asks the same questions and takes notes. She is concerned with your modelling as well, and grabs a doctor to look at you. He checks your capillary refill time and it is three seconds. Not bad. He explains a trauma is on its way in and all hands will be on deck for that. They were just making sure you didn’t need immediate treatment before everyone was taken away.

As we wait, you have two big diarrhea diapers. And then feel all better. Seriously, all better. Talking. Smiling. Laughing. ROLLING from side to side. Audrey, you don’t usually roll on a good day. I always suspect BM’s have to do with these episodes, but I am not sure how to prove it. Anyway, after being there about 45 minutes, the nurse checks on us again and asks how I can tell you were lethargic since you can’t move that much anyway. I tell her it’s mainly just because I’m mom, but usually you are pretty engaged and interactive…sort of like right now. She agrees you look much better.

(Here you are..."sick".)

At this point, Liam is my main concern. So I explain to her how your brother is also sick in the waiting room, I need to get him to his appointment at 11:15, can I go now? No. They doctor had to check you out first. But, I reason with her, you don’t have fever, your 02 is 100%, you are active and happy, not coughing…there is no reason for us to stay. You are just taking up a room. This ER idea is backfiring.

I understand it is totally liability. I do. But what happens if we just leave? She said I would have to sign a waiver and they couldn’t stop me but they didn’t like it. I didn’t want that on our TCH “record” so I agreed to stay a bit. I called right away to reschedule Liam's appointment and immediately the doctor walked in. The nurse must have told her I was thinking about leaving.

I really liked the doctor. After having spent the first part of my time there convincing everyone you were sick, I spent the next ten minutes convincing her you weren’t. After going over your medical history, she agreed it was the right thing to bring you in, but that there was no reason for you to stay. So she would discharge us. What I didn’t know was that it would take another hour to get those papers. And only then because I opened our door and stood in the hallway, staring at the bank of nurses in front of our room. We finally walked out to where Honey had the car pulled up around 12:45. We didn’t make Liam’s appointment (it was rescheduled again for 2:30) but we had time to get some lunch.

Here is the kicker. As we were checking out, they did one last exam. Your temp was up 2 degrees. And as we walked outside, you started that coughing again. Oh, Audrey. What is it with you guys? As soon as we are in the vicinity of a doctor you miraculously feel better.

As frustrated as I was at times, TCH is an awesome place. I heard a knock while we waited in your room, and it was a lady with a nice little coffee cart offering free coffee to (most likely) scared and stressed parents. That's so thoughtful. And even though I was going crazy sitting in that room while you were fine and brother was sick, we probably still got in and out faster than if we had gone to the special needs clinic. Exhausted, our day wasn’t over…you can continue reading the saga HERE.

Taking Care of Business

We went to Dynamic Orthotics today, just the two of us. Liam is sick, so he stayed with Grammy. The purpose of today’s visit was to take care of our PMR checklist.

We had them tighten your night-time AFO’s and took measurements for the SPIO suit and Hensinger collar. Unfortunately, at this point it looks like the collar and TED stockings aren’t made in a size small enough for you. Mr. T is going to look for an alternative, but doesn’t sound too hopeful. We will see what he has come up with when we go back to get the SPIO suit in a couple weeks.

Cheers for Audrey!

You played in the "intelletainer" for a good 15 minutes or so today. No weight bearing, but you were actively trying to push buttons. Each time you played the music, Liam and I would cheer and clap. I was making dinner while you two played, so even if I got distracted and forgot to say "Yaaay!" your brother would remember. I enjoyed watching his face light up from the kitchen each time. And he practiced such restraint not pushing the buttons for you. He is proud of you when you do big kid things.