Oh, Pharmacist

This is a gathering of several Pharmacy themes, coming together into one poem. Naturally, ideas pooled from real experiences.

The Pharmacist is a special player
A fount of knowledge, not a soothsayer,
Can be sweeter than a Tasmanian devil
When conversations are on the level,
If discussing matters
Regarding toxic ingestions,
The Pharmacist poses
His list of questions,
What’s the body-mass index
Their age and gender,
Was this a single shot of heroin
Or an overnight bender.

There once was a Pharmacist named Maury
All caught up with his power and glory,
He sold dubious potions
And age reversal lotions
From the back of a busted down lorry,

At his job on San Juan Avenue
In the middle of the city,
Pharmacist Maury
Was sitting pretty,
He was controlling and ornery
If you know what I’m saying,
If I needed something STAT
He might start delaying,
Telling me fourteen other people
Are ahead of me in line,
“ But Maury, if we wait
This guy will be dead on the vine.”

I think working at night
He felt like King of the pile,
With the power to delay
Making us wait for a while,
And I could never figure out
How to play to his good graces,
Never saw the dude smile
Only his control-freak faces.

Other places that I worked
Pharmacists went on rounds,
To be part of the discussion group
Dicing kilograms and pounds,
And the best time to have a Pharmacist
Right at my side,
During a Code Blue situation
Before somebody died,
With that dude on hand
To dispense all those drugs,
Handling the conversions
And refilling our mugs.

Ya, those chaotic scenes
In the University setting,
Sounded like Billy-Bobs club
With everyone betting;
“Hey, pass me a lidocaine
No wait, make that two,
Plus three epinephrines
And an epidural screw.

But there were the times
At other hospital places,
No Doctor or Pharmacist
Arrived to show their faces,
Until the very last minute
A chance to do some billing,
Yep, someone gets paid
Even when there’s a killing.

A Pharmacist in the family
Well that would be handy,
He will know what I mean
When I ask for some candy,
Plus he can probably get it
For pennies on the dollar,
Or sneak them out of the shop
Under a starched linen collar.

Pharmacists are the second
Most trusted professionals,
Good Catholics each one of them
With a guaranteed confessional,
To absolve them of sin
Should they waver from their path,
Like bringing home candy
And cheating on their math.