Quick to judge

This blog shares an awful experience Heather and I had with a judgmental pharmacist shortly after her Lyme diagnosis in December 2014.

Before I begin, I should mention that the title of this post easily could have been:
“Don’t Mess with My Daughter” or “You Said WHAT About My Daughter?”

When Heather was released from the hospital, her pain management plan included nerve medication and, temporarily, a low dose of morphine. The morphine was prescribed strictly to help manage severe pain during the early stages of treatment.

On the way home, we stopped at several pharmacies to get her prescriptions filled. But there was a complication with the morphine dosage, so we drove back to the hospital hoping their pharmacy could help.

When we returned, the pharmacist told Heather they didn’t have the 7.5 mg dose—only the 15 mg tablets. Heather mentioned the hospital nurses had been breaking the 15 mg tablets in half for her, but of course, pharmacists must fill controlled substances exactly as written.

Doctors also cannot call in changes for a controlled medication; a physically written prescription is required. Fine. I had no issue with those rules.

And then everything went downhill.

Heather was less than two hours away from needing her next dose and urgently needed her nerve medication as well. She was growing increasingly uncomfortable, exhausted, and just wanted to be home in her own bed.

Then, in a loud voice—loud enough for everyone in the waiting area to hear—the pharmacist announced:

“I’m the father of three daughters, and if it were one of my daughters, I would never let them take such a strong medicine.”

Well, good for him. I guess that makes him a better parent than me. (Spoiler: no, it does not.)

Shocked, I told him Heather had just been discharged two hours earlier with a Lyme diagnosis and that this medication was critical in case her pain flared.

He then said—again loudly, and with breathtaking arrogance—
“Well, if she’s in that much pain, then she should go to the ER.”
And added,
“She can’t be that bad. If she were, she’d be screaming and unable to walk.”

I was dumbfounded. The sheer audacity. This man—who is not a physician, cannot prescribe medications, and had never witnessed Heather’s pain—was publicly questioning not only her suffering but my parenting.

He then shared, proudly, that he lived in an area of Connecticut with a high number of Lyme cases. No mention of personal experience, just a self-proclaimed badge of expertise.

Well… whoop-dee-doo for him. He’s a dad, he lives in Connecticut, and apparently that makes him an expert on my daughter’s pain. Lovely. Next time I want to be insulted, I’ll be sure to look him up.

But here’s the truth:
He wasn’t the one sitting beside Heather as she cried out in agony.
He wasn’t the one watching her fear as they performed test after terrifying test.
He didn’t know that her nerve medication was still being titrated and wasn’t yet effective.
And he definitely didn’t understand nerve pain—because if he did, he would never have spoken to her that way.

We went home, and my brave daughter told me she hates taking pain medication and would manage without it. And yes, I cried. What else do mothers do when they feel helpless?

Her doctor offered to write a new prescription the next day, but Heather declined. She pushed through. She endured several brutally hard months before eventually finding a nerve medication that worked for her. I have never experienced nerve pain, but I know I would not have handled it with the same strength or kindness.

So how did this story end?

Well, shame on him for judging my parenting.
And shame on him for judging anyone’s pain—pain he didn’t understand and had no business assessing.

Let’s just say he shouldn’t have messed with this mama bear.
Let’s just say I may have written a letter.
And let’s just say I may have mentioned that loudly discussing a patient’s medical condition in public violates HIPAA.
Heather is ready to share her story now, but in 2014, she wasn’t. Privacy matters.

Mess with my daughter, and it’s GAME ON.

I’m a little fired up recounting this story, but Heather and I have long since moved on. And in the grand scheme, we’re grateful—she encountered only one incompetent, arrogant medical professional during her entire Lyme journey.

The rest—the doctors, the nurses, the specialists—were compassionate, patient, and truly dedicated to helping her heal. For them, I am forever thankful.

As for that judgmental pharmacist… well, you know what they say about Karma.

xo,
Lisa