The pharmacist is the Some grandmas knit real grandmas listen to Kid Rock shirt in contrast I will get this last check, ensuring the medication is safe for the person and is taken correctly. Because of this, they have the right, nay the responsibility, to refuse to dispense a drug is they feel there is a problem. Yes, your daughter can refuse to answer. But doing that would be foolish since the questions are about protecting her from harm. And if she does refuse, the pharmacist has every reason to not dispense the drug. When I had started a job working acute medicine we had to transfer patients up to other wards, and most of the time I would do it myself instead of waiting for a porter because it was just quicker. Walked past a room of a patient I didn’t know in this other ward. Thought “oh he looks like he’s bleeding somewhere”, but no evidence, he was sitting and eating his lunch. Settled my patient into their new bed and handed over within minutes. Walked back past the room and he was just staring at his lap while fresh blood pumped up from between his legs. In my old job, we had an assessment unit for referrals from the community. This was a waiting room for about 50 people, a few bed spaces and a triage room which was an old cubicle we converted with a desk and a trolley in it. I triaged a little old lady, she was fine, just a minor chest infection according to the doctor. I didn’t think she was right, but couldn’t prove it, I just felt it. This little lady needed to stay in for a day or two just to have some social problems sorted too, as well as some antibiotics. I settled her back into a big armchair, sorted her paperwork, and bloodwork. Got her a chest x-ray, and handed over to the ward she was going to over the phone while the doctor finished writing up her examination. Well, the patient’s daughter comes running out of the waiting room and her mum is blue from the waist up and we knew then she had a pulmonary embolism. She arrests, but somehow 30 compressions and some oxygen got her back (though we would be thrombolytic which means 90mins continuous compressions) but we must have moved the clot. Got her diagnosed and treated for a massive PE post-arrest, she was sat up having a cup of tea half an hour after it, and we sent her over to cardiac for telemetry. I had been watching this woman like a hawk because I just knew she wasn’t ok. I wasn’t the only nurse who felt it either. No reasons, we just know.
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What didn’t come naturally was socialization. When starting pre-school and kindergarten, the Some grandmas knit real grandmas listen to Kid Rock shirt in contrast I will get this teachers and my mother made an effort to push me into communicating with other children and making friends instead of being physically aggressive. However, I just wasn’t good at talking to others, it took a great amount of effort for me to make conversation. I was much better at listening. Since the other children loved to talk, it was easy for me to get away with just listening, rather than doing much of the talking myself. To the relief of the adults, I started to stop being such a little shit. I stopped being physically aggressive for a little while and acquired another hobby. I thought of it as a game, learning how to make others uncomfortable or upset with words and questions. It was entertaining and exciting, listening to the stories they tell, picking out the things that upset or frighten them and making that the topic of conversation instead. When I was around eight years old, my mother started taking me to a psychiatrist. I was diagnosed with ADHD and put on medication that made me even less talkative and dulled my feelings to the point where I felt nothing throughout most of the day. I started living mostly in my own head and ignoring others, because most of the time I just didn’t even feel motivated to do things that I enjoyed. My mother took me off of the medication when I was twelve, but a lot of that emotional dullness lasted. Even through high school, when I started to behave aggressively again, I would feel little emotionally if I wasn’t hurting others. As a teenager, if that still counts as being a child, I was much worse. I had a better understanding of the impact of my hurtful actions and chose to commit those actions anyway for my own pleasure. I simply didn’t care and had no empathy, compassion, or sympathy for the pain of others. Not even for people I considered friends. When I wasn’t busy being a dick, I preferred the company of myself and my books. I enjoyed my solitude and silence, people were just things I needed to get that euphoric high. Very rarely did I enjoy the company of others. That’s what I was like as a child. My behavior is much better now as an adult, with more self-awareness and impulse control, but I’m still learning.