"I'm no addict - now give me my damn methadone!"

Today marks day #6 in Outpatient Hell. I realized that I was standing on the brink of Hell today when I was being cursed at by a man in a wheelchair, who wasn't really handicapped. Apparently, he was able to ride his motorcycle all the way from DC to get methadone at our facility...but needed a wheelchair to maneuver his way around the hospital. When asked about his pain in relation to the motorcycle, he quickly told the ER doc that he modified his bike to not cause him pain. He then showed up in my counseling booth wanting to know why he didn't have any methadone. I told him that I don't write it, I just fill it. He then told me he was going into withdrawal right then and there and made his eyes roll back in his head. When I told him that he needed to return to the ER to get his methadone, his eyes magically stopped rolling in his head and he headed out of the pharmacy in high gear. This lovely little man reappeared in my freaking window no less than an hour later...damning the entire facility to Hell. I was even on his list. I wanted to say, "Take your damn methadone and shove it up your addict ass!" But...alas, I did not. I smiled sweetly and told him that if he didn't lower his voice, I would not fill his Valium. He shut up and apologized. Ah, the calming power of Valium. I finally shooed him away. Other memorable patients today included the patient who almost knocked himself out on the glass in my counseling booth; the guy who had a cold so he stood up and yelled through the glass at me (consequently spraying his spit all over my glass - which was better than all over my face), and the female whore with an STD (she was wearing a see-thru shirt and pants so tight I could've bounced my pen off her ass...and she wanted to know why everyone was staring...shit).