Already a week into the second semester, I've got three things to say today;

Firstly, the case for this week was Drug Overdose. It focussed on a bunch of harm minimisation therapies and other behavioural, social and pharmacologic therapies. One such therapy mentioned was the methadone programme. I'm well familiar with methadone/subutex etc through work, and most of the intricacies of being on the programme. I was staggered to find out what they consider a success rate. Here was me thinking that a an average methadone patient might use heroin (or other IV opioids), say, two or three times a year. Turns out that a 'success story', would be someone who uses about once a fortnight. I've discussed this with some other pharmacists, and they reckon they're being had. By comparison, all the med students were thinking "Gee, that's not bad." After a bit of consideration, I realised that I shouldn't be as shocked as I initially was, after all, the first maxim of pharmacy is "Never trust a junkie."

Secondly, a big shout out to a guy called Dion Lane. I've never met him; I watched him on ESPN's lumberjacking series last week, and he was the only Kiwi in the comp. He blew the competition away and set a few world records. He's obviously a big man with a big heart. Purely by coincidence, he also appears in another blog I read regularly; Depth of Field. Random. Awesome.

Finally, I've been reminded by one of the Medical Misadventures about a curious sighting at Airlie Beach. The first thing I noticed was that there was a 2006 BMW 325 in the carpark of the backpackers. Possibly, it belonged to the owner, but no, it had Tasmanian plates. And it was filthy. And it had a Jesus fish across the back windscreen. And shirts and ties hanging in the window. Maybe a traveling salesman, I thought? Still, unlikely at the backpackers.

Eventually, I caught sight of the owner, and it all made sense. He was the epitome of sleazeball. Just the kind of guy you'd expect to be hanging around a place full mostly with 20-something buxom British backpacker birds. Greasy, curly hair forming an oily halo around the sun- and sun-bed ravaged face, adding years and wrinkles of a man pushing forty. The guy easily had a BMI of 30++, although the gold chains he was draped in would have pushed him neared the 40 mark. Here, I should describe the silhouette of a keg on legs, to actually see the guy's (minimal) clothing of (old school) bike pants/swimmers and chest hair was trauma enough. He strolled over to his car, opened up the passenger door and sunroof. He took out a $3 deck-chair and lit himself a cigarette. He smoked it whilst listening to a tastily ironic CD..... Greatest Hits by Dire Straits.

Overheard on Sunday;

Assistant "Would you like a generic or a less expensive brand?"

The patient replies, in all seriousness.....

"No, I'll have whatever costs the most, please."