‘Twas the Fight in Our Clinic

orange jumpsuit

It was right before clinic and all through morn,
Not a patient was hurting, nor feeling forlorn.
The stocking of meds on the shelves was with care,
In hopes that ridiculous pain would be rare.
The front desk was nestled all snug in their seats,
Collecting the copays while smiling so sweet.
And I in my lab coat, scrub top, and a glove,
Had just settled in for the job that I love.

When out in the hall there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my chair to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and covered the cash.
A man on a quest, who did not like a “no,”
Gave bluster and chaos to our status quo.
When what to my watering eyes did appear?
But my signature forged on a pad that was near.
The villain prescriber had written so quick,
I knew in a moment it must be some trick.
I asked him his name and just why he had come,
But all he could say was he had to be on…

On Morphine, on Codeine, on Oxy, on Contin,
On Soma, on Xanax, and lots of Neurontin!
Don’t stop for the chart. Don’t stop in the hall.

Now right away! Right away! Write for it all !!!

As dry heaves that before a wild emesis fly,
When I met this intruder I thought I could die.
So onto the restroom I coerced him to…
Pee into a cup that might give me a clue.
But then, in his tinkling, I heard through his bleating,
The faucet, the flushing and knew he was cheating.
As I pulled back my hand and was turning around,
Through the window the specimen came with a bound.

I was stressed by his sight, and I thought for a while,
That his clothes were an orangey prisoner style.
A stencil of words were in print on his back,
When I asked him about it he called me a quack.

His lies, how repugnant; how simple his tally –
Prescription pain pills to sell in the back alley !!!

He had a clear package tied up with a bow,
And the powder inside was as white as the snow.
A piece of lead pipe he held tight in his hand,
And he swung it at me as he started to stand.
He had a gaunt face and not much of a belly,
And I shook when he laughed ‘cause his breath was so smelly.
He was stealing prescriptions, I thought to myself,
And I cringed when I saw him reach into the shelf.

A wink of his eye and a poke to my head,
Soon gave me to know I had something to dread.
He said he had come to us straight from his “work,”
And turned ’round to face me and called me a jerk.
He gave me the finger, then fingered my nose,
‘Til both of my nurses, they stomped on his toes.
He sprang to his car when we asked about jail,
And away he did run with the cops on his tail.
But he heard me exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,

No prescriptions for you, because we do it right!

022812 police-chase

 

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While drug diversion is certainly no laughing matter, I couldn’t resist poking a little fun at some of the bumblers who have chosen this “career” path.

Here’s hoping that you have a joyous and pain-free holiday season!

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