My Life as A Pharmacist
This is from my sweet friend Jennifer Knight, she and I have been friends since our seminary days. She and her husband, Greg and 2 beautiful kids live in El Paso, where she's a pharmacist. A few days ago, she sent me this short little story about her life as a pharmacist. I asked if I could post it on my blog. Enjoy!You know, there is a reason that I am a pharmacist and not a nurse. I wanted to be a nurse, but I found out when I fainted in the hallway during my clinical rotation as I rounded with the doctors that I had made the right choice with pharmacy. I definitely wasn't cut out for the actual hands-on aspect of healthcare. The guy that caused me to faint had gout. He said, “ow ow” and I slid down the wall outside his room. So, being the wimp that I am, I made the choice for the "clean" branch of healthcare, after all, what is more sterile than pills? At least that is what I thought I was getting into....
Now, after almost 9 years of retail pharmacy, I realize that I will never stop being surprised at what people say, do, and show you.
There was the day I got to be the one who found lice in the hair of an 8 year old-they look different on the head than they do in a textbook. There is a never ending stream of people who come in and say, "Does this look infected to you?" I know if they start looking around for nearby customers that they are about to pull up or pull down an item of clothing to show me something that I don't want to see. I'll never forget the day I talked to a woman on the phone for 45 minutes about her latest BM. She had seen 43 doctors, 13 gastro specialists, and spent a week in the hospital, and she thought that I would be able to tell her something new just by a phone description. Early in my career I worked at the State Board of pharmacy taking calls regarding pharmacy complaints. My most memorable call was from a woman who had received Phenergan tablets for nausea, but the pharmacy accidentally put the directions “insert one rectally” as if she had received the suppositories. Well, her mother obviously had taught her to follow directions well so she did as the label said. Her words to me were, “it to’ me up! Now my docta wanta go in there with a light and I’m scared!” Another memorable event involved a regular customer that stopped by very frequently for his Cialis (the new Viagra). One day he stops by to say that his wife had a stroke and just got out of the hospital. About one sentence later in the conversation he asks for a Cialis refill. What is wrong with this picture??? (What was wrong was that he was having an affair with a 20 year old. That story broke a few weeks later.)
As a pharmacist, many of my customers become a part of my life. And sometimes, I become a part of theirs whether I am ready for it or not. The comments that people feel free to make are never ending. When I was pregnant with Marisa, I had a new customer come in one day and she began asking me every question in the world about my pregnancy. All was normal until she asked, "Are you rubbing your nipples with a towel?" That was where I said in my mind, "What was your name again?" Another customer wasn't happy with how long it was taking me to fill his prescriptions (I was pregnant again) and he told me, "I swear, the bigger you get, the slower you get." That is not a good thing to tell a pregnant woman who is filling your prescription. Ever heard of a misfill? One of my favorite customers was a gentleman that forced our relationship to the next level rather quickly when a week after we met, he brings in the pictures from his colonoscopy (which he carries in his wallet) to show me his polyps. We were best friends from that point on. I mean, after you have seen a man’s colon polyps, there is really nothing that you can’t talk about.
This past weekend at work, I had a new occurance that got started on this trip down memory lane. A man came up and asked in Spanish where the foot powder was. I should have just pointed and stayed where I was, but NO, I had to go show him. He was 5 foot 6 and almost 400 pounds. He began telling me his problem in half English, half Spanish. "Mija, I sweat a lot, mija. Mija, I'm a truck driver, I take showers in the public showers and I have bad fungus on my feet mija. I sweat a lot and my shoes, they stink bad mija." ( I think he was trying to flirt with me-haha) Foot fungus, I can handle, but then he began another sentence in broken English/Spanish and I picked up the Spanish word for hernia.... I should have braced myself at that point but thought that since I was in a public place and had just met this man 1 minute ago that I would be spared. I wasn't spared. He lifted his shirt and showed me a huge hernia bulging out of his bellybutton. Now, no offense to anyone out there that has ever had a hernia, the condition itself is not shameful in any way, but it is not what I expected to see in the middle of the footcare aisle in Kmart! All I could think was "Did he really just do that?" So much for the sterile field of healthcare.
So the moral of the story is-be prepared for anything, always show compassion to everyone no matter how funny their predicament may seem at the time, and NEVER take a shower at a truck stop bathroom.
By Jennifer Knight