During my freshman year in high school, my science teacher assigned us to interview people in the community about how they use science in their careers. Although I don’t remember most of the people I spoke with, I can tell you that I spent meaningful time with a local community pharmacist who changed my life.
What I saw was a man who loved his career and truly cared for his patients. In an instant, I knew that I wanted to become a pharmacist, and I never wavered from that goal throughout high school.
Knowing what you want to be when you grow up at age 14 is unusual, but it is very liberating. I simply had to work backwards to figure out how to achieve my goal of becoming a pharmacist.
After high school, I chose to attend Ohio Northern University (ONU) because it had a unique pharmacy program. Rather than attending college for 2 years and then applying to the pharmacy program, ONU students were admitted to the College of Pharmacy from day one.
Although it was expensive, being in pharmacy school from day one and avoiding the risk of rejection made it worthwhile for me.
In college, I spent a lot of time in the library. Although the classwork was difficult, I did well with one exception: organic chemistry.
I did fail organic chemistry—a notorious “weed out” course—but I successfully retook the class over the summer and graduated on time with the rest of my classmates. Failing a course is a difficult stumbling block, but I stood strong and persevered.
Today, I’m thankful for the wonderful pharmacy profession for so many reasons.
First, I’m thankful that community pharmacists are the health care professionals most accessible to the public. If my local pharmacist wasn’t accessible to me, then I likely would have taken a different career path.
Second, I’m proud of the work we pharmacists do, the diversity of our career options, and the relationships we share with our patients and fellow health care providers.
Pharmacy is a profession that makes a real difference in people’s lives. It certainly has made all the difference in mine.
(I’ve been having trouble getting solid sleep lately, and my partner informs me that I’ve suddenly stopped breathing in my sleep a few times. My doctor refers me to a local hospital for a sleep study. My partner comes with me, since he’ll be helping me set up the equipment for my at-home study. The technician walks us through the process, and packs everything up for us to take home.)
Tech: “Now make sure you start hooking this all up a half hour before midnight, okay? You don’t have to be asleep when it switches on, but you should be in bed and settling down for the night. It’s all automated and will beep when it comes on, and switches off again at nine-thirty. Any questions?”
Me: “No, I think I’m—”
Partner: “Yes! I have one.”
Tech: “Yep?”
Partner: “We can still have sex once she’s all hooked up, right? I’ve always had a thing for Borgs.”
(One look at his face, and the tech can tell he’s not serious. I’ve been pretty anxious about the not-breathing thing, and he’s been trying to make jokes all day to cheer me up.)
Tech: “Now, I know you’re joking, but please don’t actually do that. You can damage the leads or accidentally switch the recording device off. We’ve had it happen.”
Partner: *surprised* “You’re kidding!”
Tech: “No. We even had one man book an in-hospital test, and his wife showed up with him. She apparently thought it was like a hotel, and that he was just after a night away from the kids.”
Me: “Wow.”
Tech: “She wasn’t thrilled when we told her she had to leave.”
Partner: “Well, would you be? I mean, there goes your romantic evening in these luxurious surroundings…” *he waves around the very basic hospital room we’re sitting in
California, Extra Stupid, Hospital, Los Angeles, Security, USA | Healthy | June 22, 2018
(I’ve ended up in the ER waiting room with an excruciating spinal headache, due to a myelogram test I underwent four days earlier. This means I can’t have any part of my spine bent for more than a minute or so without the headache coming on and making me severely sick. I’ve been becoming severely sick the entire four days anytime I’ve so much as gone to the toilet, so I’ve been forced to be bedridden the entire time. The waiting room has nowhere to lie down, not even two chairs near each other without a non-removable armrest between them. I also know that if I stand in place straight up for more than a few minutes my blood pressure will drop and I’ll lose consciousness. For lack of any other solution, I’ve crawled to lie down on the floor in a semi-clean corner, with my head under one of the unused seats, to hide from the bright ceiling lights and be as much out of the way as possible. I’ve been waiting this way for over an hour. I carefully get up to ask the check-in nurse how much longer it’ll be. She can’t tell me; she can only say that I’ll have to wait some more. I go back to my place on the floor. In less than a minute, a security guard comes up.)
Guard: “Miss, you can’t lie on the floor here.”
Me: “What? I need to be lying down. If I don’t, I’ll become badly sick.”
Guard: “Well, but surely you can sit down, miss; there are seats here. You just can’t be lying down.”
Me: *bewildered at having to explain such obvious things in an ER waiting room, and after already having lain there for an hour without being bothered or bothering anyone* “I’m sorry, but I can’t sit anywhere. The reason I’ve come to the ER is that I have a specific condition where I become severely sick when I’m sitting. There’s no way I can physically be in that position right now. I have to be lying down so I don’t become ill.”
Guard: “Oh, well… But miss, there’s a rule that says you aren’t allowed to lie on the floor in this room. So couldn’t you please just go over right there and sit in one of these nice empty seats, anyway? There’s a rule, you see.” *looks at me expectantly like he’s making a perfectly reasonable suggestion.*
Me: “…”
(I checked later: there were no signs anywhere in the room stating such a rule.)
(I go to a small chiropractic office with no receptionist. As you come in, you ask the others waiting who is last in line, and then you know where your place is in line. The doctor brings the previous person out, and the next person in line goes in. Works excellent, usually. One day, I have been waiting through three or four previous patients and I am the only one left waiting. A guy comes in, looks around and sees me, a middle-aged woman, standing there.)
Guy: “I’m sure you won’t mind if I go ahead of you. I’m in a lot of pain.”
Me: “Actually, I’m in quite a bit of pain, too.”
(The guy gives me a dirty look and sits down. The doctor emerges and the guy jumps up to be next. The doctor swivels sideways to block the guy’s entrance to the office.)
Doctor: “Hello, [My Name], you’ve been waiting so patiently even though you’re in too much pain to sit down. I’m sorry to have been so long.”
(Apparently the guy tried this whenever there was a woman in front of him. Love my chiropractor.)
Because There Is No One Else Sick Today Except You
Bad Behavior, Medical Clinic, Patients, Pennsylvania, USA | Healthy | June 21, 2018
(This takes place in a busy OB/GYN clinic. I’m a provider, one of four who are scheduled to see five or six patients per hour. We run all day to stay on schedule. A notoriously needy patient calls the front desk staff.)
Patient: “I have my appointment card and it says three, but I’m pretty sure my appointment was for one… Can you check?”
Clerk: “Looking in the computer, you’re scheduled for three, so we’ll see you then!”
(The patient over the years has scammed the private phone number for the patient care area, and calls.)
Patient: “I have an appointment for three, but I’m really sure I am supposed to come at one… You can see me, right?”
Nurse: “No, we are booked solid. We’ll see you at three!”
(Of course, the patient arrives at one. The desk clerk tells her we will see her at three. She sits in the waiting room and complains to everyone around her. Since we share a waiting area with a large family practice clinic and a couple of specialties, this gives her lots of opportunities. The poor desk clerk begs us to get her in early; initially we refuse, but after an hour, I have a teeny break in my schedule, so I relent. She smirks as the nurse brings her to the exam room. I do her routine visit. On the way out
Patient: “Oh, [My Name], I knew I could count on you; you’re always so nice to me.”
Me: “Well, [Patient], it turned out I had one opening in my schedule. The person scheduled for this time didn’t come, because she lost her baby.”
Patient: “Oh, [My Name!] Why did you tell me that?! Now I feel bad!“
Australia, Extra Stupid, Ignoring & Inattentive, Medical Office, Melbourne, Reception, Victoria | Healthy | June 21, 2018
(I have a bad cold and need a medical certificate for work. I go to the walk-in clinic in my area, and the receptionist asks for my public health care card. I pass it to her.)
Receptionist: “Do you have a current one?”
Me: “Isn’t that current?”
Receptionist: “It’s expired; I can’t accept it.”
Me: “What? I haven’t gotten a new one yet.”
Receptionist: *she flips it around to show me, and taps on the expiry date*
Me: “Um, that’s not expired.”
Receptionist: *she taps it again*
Me: “That says 07-18.”
Receptionist: “Yep.”
Me: “It’s June.”
Receptionist: “Yep.”
Me: “June is the sixth month.”
Receptionist: “Wait.” *she checks something on her computer* “SO IT IS! Okay, the wait is currently half an hour; take a seat and we will call you when you’re up!”
Me: “Thanks.”
Receptionist: “And keep an eye out in the mail for your new card!”
Doctor/Physician, Hospital, Nurses, Patients, Silly, USA | Healthy | June 21, 2018
(I consider myself very lucky that I have always been healthy. I was never sick often as a kid, and have no chronic ailments as an adult. Call me crazy, but I generally assumed that was the case for most people unless they had a serious accident, or developed a condition, etc. That is, until recently, when I check into the hospital for a minor procedure. Nothing is wrong; this is a procedure having to do with fertility. My mom goes with me the morning of my appointment and is sitting by my bed while I fill out the final pre-surgery forms and get set up with the IV, etc. Over the course of the next half-hour, I have only slightly different versions of the same conversation with every nurse and doctor who comes to check on me
Nurse #1 : *checks my chart* “I see here your only medication is birth control?”
Doctor #2 : “Birth control is the only thing you take?”
Me: *turning to my mom after the last doctor leaves* “Are they being really, really thorough, or do we just live in a very unhealthy area?”
Mom: “When I had surgery last year only two people asked me about the medicines I take. It seems strange to me, too, and you’re so young! What do they expect you to be taking?”
(The procedure goes fine, and soon I’m waking up from the anesthesia.)
Mom: “Hi, honey.”
Nurse #5 : “Hi there, [My Name]! You did great!” *checks my chart* “Are you really only taking birth control, and nothing else?”
Me: *slurred and groggy* “Seriously?! How unhealthy did you expect me to be?!”
Cafe, Health & Body, Rude & Risque, UK, Wales | Healthy | June 20, 2018
(A few months ago I had a stupid sport accident resulting in a hurt knee. To fight this, I wear a knee support. It’s a brand professional athletes use; it’s bright blue and covers my leg from mid-calf to mid-thigh. A regular about the same age as my grandfather comes into the café where I work and sees my leg.)
Regular: “What happened to you?”
Me: “Sport trauma.” *it’s the fastest and least descriptive way to say it*
Regular: “Oh, too much upstairs sports, is that right?”
Bad Behavior, Hospital, Silly, South Carolina, USA | Healthy | June 20, 2018
(My uncle just had surgery and is telling me about it.)
Uncle: “They told me, because the painkillers mess with your head, to wait 24 hours before making any important decisions or signing any legal documents.”
Bad Behavior, home, Israel, Kiryat Bialik, Non-Dialogue, Parents/Guardians, Patients | Healthy | June 20, 2018
When I was in elementary school, my parents had an obsessive conviction that I must never be allowed to stay home alone during summer vacation, even though they were perfectly fine with letting me stay home alone on a regular basis during the school year.
They always signed me up for every single multi-week summer “camp” available, the ones where kids go or are bused somewhere in the morning and return in the afternoon, like with school.
This happens when I’m about 11. My parents both work, so they’ve signed me up for a camp where kids spend the whole day in a water-park, mostly under the sun non-stop, wearing only swimsuits.
One night before bedtime, Mom plugs some kind of new bug-repelling device she’s just bought into an electric outlet in my bedroom.
When I wake up, I’m covered head to toe in large, swollen, red, and extremely itchy hives. They are absolutely everywhere. I look like a horror movie monster and can’t stop scratching.
Mom examines me, and declares that it must be “just” an allergic response to the bug repellent, and that it is “not a big deal.” I must still go to camp as usual. She doesn’t even try to put any kind of lotion on me or do anything.
I protest having to go anywhere in this condition, as I feel terrible and look frightening.
Mom insists, and derides me for being a baby and whining. She repeats that it’s clearly not a big deal.
It’s clear to me that she just wants to go to work as usual, doesn’t want to be bothered today with taking an ill child to a doctor, and still refuses to let me stay home on my own despite me being too sick to go out. But there’s nothing I can do about it.
Being at the water-park is awful. The chemicals in all the pools and being in the hot sun all irritate and inflame the hives further. As nearly my entire body is exposed in the swimsuit, all the other children look at me with contempt and disgust. Pointing and whispering quickly begins, and I become the target of relentless teasing.
There are very few adults around, and none of them notice or care about anyone being unwell unless they’re clearly dying; most of them are either lifeguards at the pools or people handing out our lunches and snacks, so anything outside that just isn’t their problem.
I spend the entire day absolutely unable to stop scratching everywhere and utterly miserable, while worrying that I have some awful disease — I’ve never had allergic reactions before in my life.
When I finally get home, my mom seems terribly surprised that the hives haven’t gotten any better and that I feel awful.
After some lengthy discussion, it’s decided they’ll actually let me see a doctor. Tomorrow. And Dad will be the one to take off work to take me.
The next day by midday the hives have finally began to partially reduce in size… as I haven’t been sent to a freaking water park today. The doctor I’m taken to says that it is in fact clearly an allergic reaction; most likely to that bug repellent device. And that I clearly should be kept in cool and dry conditions until it goes away: no more sun, chemicals, and dampness. And no more chemical bug repellents in my room.
My parents very begrudgingly allow me to stay home for a day or two after that. I can only remain grateful that this is the only time in my childhood I have had any kind of allergic reaction; otherwise, there’s even odds I’d be dead now.
Thanks so much, Mom, for your entire handling of this situation; your caring and consideration of my health will always stay in my heart.
Food & Drink, Health & Body, home, Parents/Guardians, Slovenia | Healthy | June 19, 2018
(I am a type-one diabetic and have been for 18 years. I am using an insulin pump, and to give myself correct amount of insulin, I have to calculate the amount of carbohydrates I have eaten. Note that carbohydrates represent a half of the weight of a piece of bread. This happens when I come home from school with hypoglycaemia when I’m 11.)
Dad: “What have you eaten today? Did you give yourself the right amount of insulin?”
Me: “Well, I ate a piece of bread and gave myself insulin for a third of its weight.”
Medical Office, Nurses, Patients, Silly, USA, Utah | Healthy | June 19, 2018
(My mom has notoriously small veins, which I have inherited. This happens while I’m getting my blood drawn. My dad is there with me.)
Nurse: *seems to be having trouble finding a vein, tries looking in many different places* “Okay, I think we’re going to end up taking from your hand rather than your arm, because that might be the only place that it will work.”
Dad: “[My Name], do you have really small veins like Mom?”
Family & Kids, home, Michigan, Patients, Siblings, Silly, USA | Healthy | June 19, 2018
(My family has always been accident-prone, especially my brother and me. When he gets married and they start having a family, I decide to warn my sister-in-law.)
Me: “Are you sure you want to do this? Just so you know, my brother has the Mother’s Curse. ‘May you have children like yourself so you know what it’s like.’”
Sister-In-Law: “Oh, it’s worse than that. I have the Mother’s Curse, too. So it’s doubled!
(Fast forward several years and four kids later. At a family gathering, my sister-in-law explains all of the times in the last year that her children have been in Urgent Care from accidental injuries.)
Sister: *referring to my experience after an injury that required repeated medical interventions* “Well, as long as the ER nurses don’t know you by name, I think you’re doing just fine.”
Sister-In-Law: “Well, they don’t know us by name, but they sort of recognize us now.”
(On a later date, my brother is joking with our father
Brother: “Last time we took a kid in, I told the intake nurse, ‘[Family Name], party of six. We have a reservation?’”
(And recently, after a particularly eventful month
Doctor/Physician, Hospital, Nurses, Patients, Silly, USA | Healthy | June 21, 2018
(I consider myself very lucky that I have always been healthy. I was never sick often as a kid, and have no chronic ailments as an adult. Call me crazy, but I generally assumed that was the case for most people unless they had a serious accident, or developed a condition, etc. That is, until recently, when I check into the hospital for a minor procedure. Nothing is wrong; this is a procedure having to do with fertility. My mom goes with me the morning of my appointment and is sitting by my bed while I fill out the final pre-surgery forms and get set up with the IV, etc. Over the course of the next half-hour, I have only slightly different versions of the same conversation with every nurse and doctor who comes to check on me
Nurse #1 : *checks my chart* “I see here your only medication is birth control?”
Doctor #2 : “Birth control is the only thing you take?”
Me: *turning to my mom after the last doctor leaves* “Are they being really, really thorough, or do we just live in a very unhealthy area?”
Mom: “When I had surgery last year only two people asked me about the medicines I take. It seems strange to me, too, and you’re so young! What do they expect you to be taking?”
(The procedure goes fine, and soon I’m waking up from the anesthesia.)
Mom: “Hi, honey.”
Nurse #5 : “Hi there, [My Name]! You did great!” *checks my chart* “Are you really only taking birth control, and nothing else?”
Me: *slurred and groggy* “Seriously?! How unhealthy did you expect me to be?!”
Bad Behavior, Hospital, Silly, South Carolina, USA | Healthy | June 20, 2018
(My uncle just had surgery and is telling me about it.)
Uncle: “They told me, because the painkillers mess with your head, to wait 24 hours before making any important decisions or signing any legal documents.”
Bad Behavior, home, Israel, Kiryat Bialik, Non-Dialogue, Parents/Guardians, Patients | Healthy | June 20, 2018
When I was in elementary school, my parents had an obsessive conviction that I must never be allowed to stay home alone during summer vacation, even though they were perfectly fine with letting me stay home alone on a regular basis during the school year.
They always signed me up for every single multi-week summer “camp” available, the ones where kids go or are bused somewhere in the morning and return in the afternoon, like with school.
This happens when I’m about 11. My parents both work, so they’ve signed me up for a camp where kids spend the whole day in a water-park, mostly under the sun non-stop, wearing only swimsuits.
One night before bedtime, Mom plugs some kind of new bug-repelling device she’s just bought into an electric outlet in my bedroom.
When I wake up, I’m covered head to toe in large, swollen, red, and extremely itchy hives. They are absolutely everywhere. I look like a horror movie monster and can’t stop scratching.
Mom examines me, and declares that it must be “just” an allergic response to the bug repellent, and that it is “not a big deal.” I must still go to camp as usual. She doesn’t even try to put any kind of lotion on me or do anything.
I protest having to go anywhere in this condition, as I feel terrible and look frightening.
Mom insists, and derides me for being a baby and whining. She repeats that it’s clearly not a big deal.
It’s clear to me that she just wants to go to work as usual, doesn’t want to be bothered today with taking an ill child to a doctor, and still refuses to let me stay home on my own despite me being too sick to go out. But there’s nothing I can do about it.
Being at the water-park is awful. The chemicals in all the pools and being in the hot sun all irritate and inflame the hives further. As nearly my entire body is exposed in the swimsuit, all the other children look at me with contempt and disgust. Pointing and whispering quickly begins, and I become the target of relentless teasing.
There are very few adults around, and none of them notice or care about anyone being unwell unless they’re clearly dying; most of them are either lifeguards at the pools or people handing out our lunches and snacks, so anything outside that just isn’t their problem.
I spend the entire day absolutely unable to stop scratching everywhere and utterly miserable, while worrying that I have some awful disease — I’ve never had allergic reactions before in my life.
When I finally get home, my mom seems terribly surprised that the hives haven’t gotten any better and that I feel awful.
After some lengthy discussion, it’s decided they’ll actually let me see a doctor. Tomorrow. And Dad will be the one to take off work to take me.
The next day by midday the hives have finally began to partially reduce in size… as I haven’t been sent to a freaking water park today. The doctor I’m taken to says that it is in fact clearly an allergic reaction; most likely to that bug repellent device. And that I clearly should be kept in cool and dry conditions until it goes away: no more sun, chemicals, and dampness. And no more chemical bug repellents in my room.
My parents very begrudgingly allow me to stay home for a day or two after that. I can only remain grateful that this is the only time in my childhood I have had any kind of allergic reaction; otherwise, there’s even odds I’d be dead now.
Thanks so much, Mom, for your entire handling of this situation; your caring and consideration of my health will always stay in my heart.
Food & Drink, Health & Body, home, Parents/Guardians, Slovenia | Healthy | June 19, 2018
(I am a type-one diabetic and have been for 18 years. I am using an insulin pump, and to give myself correct amount of insulin, I have to calculate the amount of carbohydrates I have eaten. Note that carbohydrates represent a half of the weight of a piece of bread. This happens when I come home from school with hypoglycaemia when I’m 11.)
Dad: “What have you eaten today? Did you give yourself the right amount of insulin?”
Me: “Well, I ate a piece of bread and gave myself insulin for a third of its weight.”
Medical Office, Nurses, Patients, Silly, USA, Utah | Healthy | June 19, 2018
(My mom has notoriously small veins, which I have inherited. This happens while I’m getting my blood drawn. My dad is there with me.)
Nurse: *seems to be having trouble finding a vein, tries looking in many different places* “Okay, I think we’re going to end up taking from your hand rather than your arm, because that might be the only place that it will work.”
Dad: “[My Name], do you have really small veins like Mom?”
Family & Kids, home, Michigan, Patients, Siblings, Silly, USA | Healthy | June 19, 2018
(My family has always been accident-prone, especially my brother and me. When he gets married and they start having a family, I decide to warn my sister-in-law.)
Me: “Are you sure you want to do this? Just so you know, my brother has the Mother’s Curse. ‘May you have children like yourself so you know what it’s like.’”
Sister-In-Law: “Oh, it’s worse than that. I have the Mother’s Curse, too. So it’s doubled!
(Fast forward several years and four kids later. At a family gathering, my sister-in-law explains all of the times in the last year that her children have been in Urgent Care from accidental injuries.)
Sister: *referring to my experience after an injury that required repeated medical interventions* “Well, as long as the ER nurses don’t know you by name, I think you’re doing just fine.”
Sister-In-Law: “Well, they don’t know us by name, but they sort of recognize us now.”
(On a later date, my brother is joking with our father
Brother: “Last time we took a kid in, I told the intake nurse, ‘[Family Name], party of six. We have a reservation?’”
(And recently, after a particularly eventful month
(I just had jaw surgery, so I am in the hospital for a few days with a swollen face, and my jaw is wired shut. I really can’t speak. I wake up in the middle of the night. My sister is sleeping in the guest chair, but I can feel the pain easing in on my face, so I decide to hail the nurse using a button on the side of the bed. Instead of the nurse coming to see what I need, she proceeds to use the speaker attachment. You can probably see where this is going.)
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