Refills, refills, refills.

Recently an elderly patient of mine (let’s call him AB) needed refills for multiple medications for various serious health issues. Because of his limited insurance, he can only fill the meds at one particularly bad pharmacy (I won’t name the corporation, but it’s easy to guess).

AP contacted me by email and gave me his full name and address, but no phone number, and a list of his nine medications. I sent everything electronically and figured that was that.

Two days later, he emailed me in a panic. He had been to the pharmacy and they had “no record” of any prescriptions being sent for him. Unfortunately, this happens all the time — especially if the doctor leaves a voicemail, which is rarely checked promptly, if at all.

I confirmed in my EMR the meds had been transmitted. I called the pharmacy and spoke to the pharmacist, gave the patient’s name and date of birth. Yes, all the medications had been filled and were waiting for him. However, the pharmacy (like me) didn’t have a phone number for AB. I emailed him back, telling him the medications were definitely there. I also urged AB to please, please give me a phone number. No response.

Another two days went by. Another email from AB. He had gone there again, no medications, and he suggested it was my fault, that I had “pressed the wrong button”.

I immediately emailed back: “What is your phone number?” And, thankfully, he responded.

I called AP, conferenced in the pharmacy, and asked for help. The harried pharmacist asked the patient for his date of birth and full name. AB is from Afghanistan. When he gave his full name to the pharmacist, he added an additional surname he had not given me: ABC.

So. Even though the pharmacy had his birth date and address on record — and the name AB (so close!) — they neither had the time nor cared enough to realize that ABC was the same person needing critical medications. And they sent him away. Twice.

The pharmacist’s solution on the phone? “When you come in here, just say you’re AB.”

Life is often busy, stressful and downright irritating. People like AB — older, confused at times, from another culture — tend to be nearly invisible to our profit-based health care system. But I often find if you take a deep breath and empathize, most problems are solvable by just caring.