Got a phone call on Wednesday while I was busy in theatre.
I didn’t recognise the number so I answered with some trepidation. The caller identified themselves as ringing from a local pharmacy, and my heart sank. My immediate assumption was that I’d made a screw up on a prescription. It doesn’t happen very often, but I couldn’t think of any other reason why they’d call me. And so it proved to be. The medication and dose was correct, but not the instructions on how frequently to take them.
Never mind, it was easily fixed, and without the patient having to come back to the hospital, or me going out to the pharmacy myself. All I had to do was rewrite the script, take a photo and email it to them. For legal reasons, they still needed a physical copy of the prescription, too. Flustered, I asked him how I could do that, and mistakenly asked for the fax number, when I meant the postal address (I told you I didn’t make prescription mistakes very often). “Oh no, we don’t have a fax machine” he said, sarcastically “because we no longer live in the last century.” Cheeky!
I rang the patient to apologise, and it was very useful, because it gave me the opportunity to amend the script to add some stronger painkillers. I emailed the updated script, posted the hard copy, and continued with my day.
I got an email from the pharmacy later to confirm that they’d got my email and to thank me very much for my time. I replied to say no problem and that I was grateful they’d picked up the original mistake. I almost asked to pass on my thanks to “the rude man who first rang me” but decided discretion was the better part of valour, and I’d let sleeping dogs lie. Everyone was a winner as it turned out, anyway.