John Montgomery  Presents This Week's Creep Logo by Lynn Kauczka

Robert Courtney Get Your Prescriptions Half Filled Here

I make it a practice to avoid contact with any member of the health care profession at all costs. I don't like any of them. I can't stand them touching me, jabbing me, or probing me. I hate waiting in waiting rooms, pissing into test tubes, and turning my head and coughing. And I absolutely detest having to deal with HMO people on the phone. Those witless and uncaring swine ought to be rounded up, chained together by their necks and burned at the stake on the Jerry Springer Show.

My most recent experience was typical. I wasn't sick but had to go see Dr. Lipschitz for a life insurance physical. I walked in the door and immediately had to get in back of long line just to give my name to the steely-eyed, cold-hearted robot behind the counter who haughtily informed me that Dr. Lipschitz was running an hour-and-a-half behind and that I could spend the time filling out a 25-page form requesting my entire medical history from the time of conception to what I had for breakfast. Two and a half hours later, some monstrously overweight nurse grabbed my arm, threw me into a little room and told me to get naked. After another 45 minutes, during which I paced the room in my birthday suit, cold, lonely and scared, Dr. Lipschitz made his grand entrance, gave me one of those "I'm a Doctor, You're a Loser" stares they learn in medical school and asked what he could do for me.

"I'm glad you asked me that question, Doctor," I shouted. "You can start by telling me where the hell you've been for the last three hours. My time is important, too, you self-centered prick! And if you're so good at making people healthy, why is that nurse of yours so goddamn fat?"

Here's a piece of advice that will save you much unnecessary pain and misery: Don't ever scream at a guy right before he's about to stick his finger up your ass.

But enough about me. If I had to pick the profession in the health care field that's given people the least amount of trouble over the years, it would be a pharmacist. They count out the pills and hand them over with a minimum of arrogance. They'll give you real answers to the questions that caused your doctor to shake his head and wonder how such a stupid, whining imbecile wound up as his patient.

And many moons ago, when I was a clammy-palmed, blue-balled, embarrased-do-death teenager, a pharmacist sold me my first pack of rubbers without hassling me about it. So I've never had any cause to dislike a pharmacist.

Until now.

The pharmacist in question is Robert Courtney, of Kansas City, who is now sitting (or perhaps kneeling) in a federal prison without bail. His offense? Robert was diluting the dosage of drugs he dispensed to unsuspecting customers of his pharmacy. He'd then charge the full price and pocket the difference. The drugs weren't just your average Valium and Viagra. No, Robert was screwing chemotherapy patients who thought they were getting full doses of Taxol and Gemzar.

And that's not the cheap stuff you get for a five dollar co-pay. A full dose of one of them costs between $500 and $1000. Robert was delivering orders containing between 1% and 39% of the drugs that were supposed to be there, making a tidy profit for himself of up to $780 for each transaction. Meanwhile, the patients, who were already dealt a bad hand by getting cancer, were not getting the treatment they needed. In some cases, doctors would note that the chemo was not providing the expected benefits and increase the dosage, thereby exposing the patients to dangerous overdose conditions. The FBI special agent in charge of the case says that of the hundreds of patients who received Robert's drug specials, at least one has died.

The judge denied Robert bail, saying he was a flight risk and noting Robert's net worth of $10 million. Ten Million Dollars! That's a lot of diluted drugs. I bet Dr. Lipschitz isn't worth that much. Even Regis Philbin never says Ten Million Dollars! Of course, in that other drug trade, profits of that magnitude aren't unusual. Then again, guys in that line of work who cut the strength of the drugs they sell are lucky if jail is the worst thing that happens to them.

During the court proceedings this week, Robert had his father and his mother make statements testifying to what a great person Robert is. I expected to hear glowing testimony from teenage boys who bought rubbers from Robert without getting hassled. Those boys better check to make sure they didn't get "shorted".