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.
Hospital, Oregon, Patients, Portland, Silly, USA | Healthy | December 14, 2018
(I am in labor at the hospital. My midwife comes in to check how it is going and to feel the baby’s position for delivery. After feeling my belly she says
Midwife: “I cannot find the baby.”
Me: “Well, I am pretty sure that he didn’t come out yet, so he must be somewhere inside.”
Doctor/Physician, Medical Office, Patients, The Netherlands | Healthy | December 13, 2018
(I am still a teenager when this happens. I’ve had several bladder infections, which took a while to diagnose because I am a man, “and men never get urine infections.” Luckily my GP and parents take me seriously after the final diagnosis, so if I feel it coming, I pee in a pot, take it to the GP, and he does the test and gives me the antibiotics. A cause has yet to be found. One day I wake up in immense pain. I suspect bladder infection, but I can hardly squeeze anything out. The result also looks different, and I immediately go to the GP with my parents and my little jar. I don’t have to wait for long, and when the GP sees the little jar, he gets ready for the normal tests. Then… he suddenly turns back and takes the jar.)
GP: “Wait… I officially have to test this, but please go to the hospital right away.”
Father: “What is wrong?”
GP: “It’s a bladder infection, I’m positive but…” *he shows the jar, which holds three separate layers of fluids* “This is blood, this is proteins, and this is urine. It’s not supposed to separate… at all. Please leave right away, while I test this.”
(When I reached the hospital, results were in, a bed was made ready, and I spent a week at the hospital with a very severe bladder infection. I still often feel bladder infections coming, but it turns out my body responds really well to cranberry juice, so I haven’t had any need for antibiotics ever since!)
Medical Office, Patients, Silly, USA | Healthy | December 12, 2018
I was diagnosed with Asperger’s when I was fourteen, and I’ve never really seen anything bad about it. I like to make jokes about having it sometimes, too.
Whenever I go to the doctor, I ask if I need any vaccines or shots at the time, and I distinctly remember one of my doctors making a remark on how I’m one of the only people who ask voluntarily. I was fifteen at the time and this doctor works usually with younger patients.
I calmly looked her in the eye and smiled brightly before saying, “I already have autism; what’s the worst that can happen?”
It wasn’t as funny as I thought it was when she assumed I actually thought that vaccines caused autism and started lecturing me.
California, Health & Body, Parents/Guardians, Phone, USA | Healthy | December 11, 2018
(My dad is on the phone with me one day while I’m away at college. I’m in my late teens. English is not our first language, and as is the case most of the time with immigrants and their children, I have a much better knowledge of the language. He’s looking for a medical specialist to go to for some issue he has and is reading off a list to have me help him figure out what type of doctors they are.)
Dad: “It says this one is an anesthesiologist. What is that?”
Me: “That’s the doctor who puts you to sleep during surgery.”
Dad: “This one is a dermatologist.”
Me: “That’s a doctor who treats skin conditions.”
Dad: “Okay, this one is a nephrologist.”
Me: “They treat the kidneys.”
Dad: “Hmm…Let’s see… The next one is a Neurology doctor.”
Me: “They treat the brain and nervous system.”
Dad: “Okay… Oh, how about this one? It’s an OB/GYN. What is that?”
Me: “Uh… That’s… really not the right kind of doctor for you, Dad.”
(It’s worth noting here that I have a poor and very awkward relationship with my father, to the point that we’ve essentially not talked about anything personal in my entire life, and NEVER anything to do with sex.)
Dad: *in a curt and impatient tone* “What kind of doctor is it? What does OB/GYN mean?”
Me: *trying very hard not to be forced to say anything that would be extremely awkward for me* “That’s not the kind of doctor you’re looking for, Dad. I’m definitely sure about that.”
Dad: *suddenly snapping at me loudly and quite angrily* “I don’t care what you think! Just tell me what the h*** kind of doctor it is! I want to know what OB/GYN means, right now!”
Me: *startled and insulted* “Um, well, that’s… that’s a doctor who treats babies.”
Dad: *immediately calms down and pretends nothing happened, then goes on with asking about other doctors from the list* “Oh. Well. Okay, the next doctor is a….”
(I was very awkward back then about anything to do with sex, and very easily intimidated and bullied by my parents. Looking back on it now, I really wish I’d answered him with, “Well, Dad, that’s the doctor who treats vaginas and uteruses! You know, the doctor who looks into vaginas and then puts his hands into vaginas, and then puts all sorts of medical implements into vaginas! Vaginas vaginas vaginas vaginas! So, how about it? I guess I could have been totally wrong! Do you think that this could be the doctor you’re looking for – the doctor who treats vaginas?”)
Hospital, Missouri, Non-Dialogue, Patients, Silly, USA | Healthy | December 10, 2018
I come into the hospital, 39 weeks pregnant with a single baby, due to a sudden headache, high blood pressure, and vomiting. It’s determined I’ve developed severe preeclampsia and need to be induced today.
Just about three hours after being admitted, the baby has moved for the fourth time, making it difficult to accurately monitor her heart rate. The doctor decides to have a monitor placed in utero on the baby to get a consistent reading.
The nurses tasked with placing the monitor are gathered at my legs, talking amongst themselves, prepping for the procedure. I’m foggy from the medicine and not really paying attention when a nurse says, “Oh, there’s two.” After having a minor panic attack, I catch the nurse’s attention and it turns out they had two of the monitors, but after talking about irregular heartbeats I thought somehow a second baby had shown up.
Canada, Health & Body, home, Lazy/Unhelpful, Non-Dialogue, Ontario | Healthy | December 7, 2018
I’m a very lazy person by nature. I’ll get up and walk around if I feel like it, but I never really go out of my way to try and stay fit. I’m also notorious for hating every sport except for swimming, due to poor performances in gym class. As part of a co-op program for college, I end up staying with my marathon-running, fitness-nut uncle for a month. He is constantly offering for me to join him for workouts or trips to the gym, but I always decline, and he never pushes it. He just wants to be polite and offer to let me come along.
One day, I decide I want to try it, so I get his help setting up a workout routine. When I go back to college at the end of the program, I try it myself without supervision. I end up hurting my hip and have to stop, but after a week or two, I notice that the pain is not going away. It takes me two years to get a proper doctor’s appointment for this — my community is notorious for long waits to see doctors for anything — and I am diagnosed with a muscle tear in my right hip.
So, to sum it up, I hate sports, but the first time I do an actual workout to try and get myself into shape, I come away with what is commonly called a “sports hernia.” Everyone who found out laughed at the sheer irony of it.
Extra Stupid, France, Hospital, Non-Dialogue, Reception | Healthy | December 6, 2018
I was told by a previous doctor I had polycystic ovary syndrome. My period has always been irregular and I have often had hemorrhages for the last three years. I have not seen a gynecologist in over six years because of a bad experience with the last one, but I make an appointment with a different one to get it checked out. To make the story short, things go okay at my appointment, but for some reason my left ovary is nowhere in sight on the sonogram, so I have to get an MRI scan. When I call to make the appointment, I get asked why the doctor wants me to take an MRI scan. I tell the secretary I have irregular periods and the doctor could not find my left ovary on a sonogram. She tells me that I can’t be on my period for the scan, so she asks when my next is period due so she can put me in when I am not on my period. I tell her again that my period is irregular and I have no idea when the next will come. She stares at me for a few seconds, and then asks me when the last one was and asks me how long my cycle usually lasts. I know the date, but I tell her that it can be somewhere between 28 to 120 days.
A few second of blank stares later, she finally gives me an appointment and tells me yet again that I can’t be on my period for the scan.
How can a woman not understand what “irregular period” means?
Canada, Doctor/Physician, Jerk, Medical Office | Healthy | December 5, 2018
(This takes place shortly after my 19th birthday. I want to get a tattoo, much to my parents’ dislike, but since I am an adult now, they relent and my father goes with me as I get it done. I get a Gallifreyan circle — from Doctor Who — on my left forearm. It comes out really nice and I love it. However, a few months later, when it is fully healed, I develop some little red bumps over the tattoo and the skin is very itchy. I think it’s a rash, but it doesn’t look serious. I go to my family doctor to check it out, since I rarely get rashes at all. For context, my doctor is originally from Germany, and she has a thick accent. She also doesn’t have any sense of humor and is really blunt, which makes it hard to talk to her sometimes. I go in for my appointment and show her my arm.)
Me: “I think I have a rash on my arm, but I don’t know how I got it. I don’t have allergies to anything, so I’m not sure what triggered it.”
Doctor: “When did you get the tattoo?”
Me: “In May, a few months ago.”
(It’s August now.)
Doctor: *cutting me off* “You’re allergic to tattoo ink. No more tattoos.”
Me: *thinking* “If I’m allergic to the ink, wouldn’t I have had a reaction immediately?” *out loud* “Are you sure? It’s been a good amount of time since I got it, and I didn’t have a reaction when it was healing.”
Doctor: “You’re allergic to tattoo ink. You can’t get any more tattoos. You’re lucky you came in now; it could have developed into something worse. “
Me: “If I got this rash right after getting the tattoo, I would agree with you. But it’s been about three months, and it’s fully healed. Is there any possibility it could be something else?”
Doctor: “You’re not listening to me. You. Are. Allergic. To. The. Ink. Do not get any more tattoos. And don’t get any more piercings, either.”
(I only have my ears and nose pierced, but I don’t know why that mattered since they also healed fine. I was skeptical, but didn’t push it further. She prescribed a rash cream and said to use it until it clears up, or come back to see her if it doesn’t. I decided to call the tattoo shop I went to to ask them about it, which I now know I should have done in the first place! They told me not to worry, since it was fully healed, and it wasn’t a typical allergic reaction, especially months later. I used the cream and the rash was completely gone about a week later. I now have four tattoos, and have never developed another rash. Allergic, indeed!)
Bad Behavior, Dentist, North Carolina, USA | Healthy | December 4, 2018
(Thanks to starting a new job, I am finally able to afford to go to a dentist for the first time in five years. After the x-rays, it is determined that I have a cavity in between two molars, so I’ll need to be numbed. My last dentist, who was a pediatric dentist, had a habit of practically stabbing the needle into my gums, so when the hygienist towards me with the syringe, I instinctively grip the chair’s armrests.)
Dentist: “Are you okay?”
Me: “Just fine; I just don’t have good experiences with dentists and needles. But I can deal with it.”
(The dentist and hygienist exchange a concerned look and administer the shot. Instead of a jab, I barely feel a pinch. While we wait for it to take effect, we just make small chat.)
Dentist: “[My Name], you said your last dentist was a pediatric dentist, correct?”
Me: “Yeah, I think I was 15 or 16 when I last saw them. I had to get sealants on my back molars.”
Dentist: “Did they numb you?”
Me: “Yeah, only on one side, though. When they numbed me on the left, I swore the needle nearly hit bone, so I begged them not to numb the other side.”
Dentist: “And they listened?”
Me: “Yup, it hurt less than the needle.”
Dentist: *pause* “Was your dentist, by chance, the one whose practice is at [Location Downtown]?”
Me: “Yes?”
Dentist: “Dear God, no wonder we got so many of his patients when we opened.”
Doctor/Physician, Georgia, Hospital, Ignoring & Inattentive, USA | Healthy | December 3, 2018
(I get a strange painful lump that shows up while I’m pregnant. The doctor tells me not to worry and that it will go away after birth. Six months postpartum, I go to get it checked out again. The doctor tells me to give it more time to heal. Eight months postpartum, I go to a GP to get it checked out, because I’m still in pain and tired of being blown off. I’m quickly diagnosed with a hernia. As I’m getting ready for surgery
Me: “I wish my doctor had just told me he couldn’t do anything and told me to go see someone else.”
Nurse: “Well, that would have meant having to put aside his ego; doctors don’t like to do that.”
Doctor/Physician, Ignoring & Inattentive, Medical Office, USA | Healthy | December 2, 2018
(The urgent care doctor says my test results for flu and strep are negative. She prescribes anti-nausea medication and wants to put me on antibiotics for ten days. I have some complicated gut issues, and I explain that the last time I was put on antibiotics, my stomach was messed up for weeks.)
Doctor: “There aren’t any antibiotics you can tolerate?”
Me: “I really don’t know. I could try taking them, but if I get sick, I can’t stop taking them until the bottle is empty, right?”
Doctor: “Oh, I will just give you the five-day Z-Pack, then.”
Me: *trying not to ask her if she’s stupid* “Isn’t the Z-Pack stronger, since it’s used for only a few days?”
Doctor: *lightly and carelessly sighs as she responds* “Oh, yeah…”
Colorado, Crazy Requests, Hospital, USA | Healthy | November 25, 2018
(I work in the physical therapy department inside of a hospital. I get a call.)
Me: “Thank you for calling [Physical Therapy]. How may I help you?”
Caller: “Yeah. I don’t feel good. Can I take tamiflu?”
Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but you’ve reached the physical therapy department.”
Caller: “I KNOW THAT! CAN I TAKE TAMIFLU?”
Me: “Ma’am, our therapists do not give out medical advice regarding medications. Is there another department I can transfer you to, or a doctor’s office?”
Caller: “Yeah, give me Eric.”
Me: “Eric who? Where does he work?”
Caller: “YOU KNOW! ERIC!”
(I have no idea why she thought she should call the physical therapy department to see if she should take tamiflu! And who the heck is Eric?!)
China, Hospital, Language & Words, Nurses, Shenzhen | Healthy | November 23, 2018
(I am about eight years old when my family and I relocate to China for a year. Despite my Chinese heritage, I was born and raised elsewhere, so English is my first language, whereas I tend to struggle with Chinese. In that year, I fall sick enough to warrant a week-long stay at the nearest hospital. My mother and my grandmother accompany me in the daytime to take care of me as well as talk to the nurses and doctors on my behalf. When I’m alone, however, my sole form of entertainment is the TV in the room, which I leave on the only English-speaking channel they have. None of us think much about it until my mom comes in one morning and happens upon two nurses conversing outside my room.)
Nurse #1 : “That little girl, she doesn’t talk much when I ask her questions, but she is so focused when it comes to [English channel] on TV. In fact, I’m pretty sure that’s all she’s been watching since she got here!”
Nurse #2 : “Wow! She’s that dedicated to learning English and keeping up with school, even though she’s this sick? What a studious girl!”
(And that’s how I inadvertently impressed a couple of nurses by lazing around in bed all day watching the telly.)
Australia, Brisbane, Extra Stupid, Friends, Hospital, Queensland | Healthy | November 21, 2018
(I have just had to rush my daughter to the hospital with a heart-related issue. I call my husband and send a text to friends that I am supposed to be going out with that evening. One friend isn’t always with it.)
Me: “Sorry, I am stuck in hospital with [Daughter]; she has a heartbeat of 204 bpm and they are trying to stabilise it.”
Friend: “So, what time will you be here?”
Me: “I can’t come.”
Friend: “Why not? You still have two hours before we leave.”
Me: “Because [Daughter] is in hospital and I won’t leave her.”
Friend: “Oh, is 204 bpm bad?”
Me: “204 beats a minute? Yes, it’s bad.”
Friend: “Oh, I didn’t know you meant per minute.”
(She did wish us well, and our daughter’s heart rate was brought down, though she needs lifelong medication to keep it there.)
Hospital, Ignoring & Inattentive, Non-Dialogue, USA | Healthy | November 19, 2018
This story occurs over a four-year span. It begins the year when I was in the first grade, and my sister was in the fourth grade, in the summer.
My sister and I were walking our dogs outside with our mom. My sister happened to get tugged by the dog she was walking and “sprained” her ankle in a ditch. She hurt it bad enough that she and Mom went to the hospital, but not until after she took a shower; our mom was very insistent on her showering first. The doctor diagnosed it as a sprained ankle.
For the next four years, until she was in eighth grade, she had intense pain with her ankle and foot in general. They decided to take her to a hospital again, with a different doctor.
It turns out, for the past four years, her ankle had been broken the entire time, and was left untreated.
The next few years were spent with her receiving surgery for the ankle, growing bones in her foot and having them removed, and physical therapy.
She’s now a junior in college, and doesn’t have as much trouble with her foot anymore, except when she exercises excessively.
I’m still annoyed with the doctor who didn’t find it out the first time around and let my sister suffer for four years.
Clinic, Medication, USA, Washington | Healthy Right | November 17, 2018
(I am a medical assistant in a family medicine clinic. We often have difficulty with refills for patients, but this was a memorable one. Note: the patient is elderly so I was trying to be really patient and understanding!)
Me: “Thank you for calling [Clinic]. How may I help you?”
Patient: “I need to find out which medications Dr. [Name] refilled at my last appointment.”
Me: “It looks she filled two: [Medication #1 ] was sent to your mail order pharmacy, and [Medication #2 ] was sent to your local pharmacy.”
Patient: “I didn’t need [Medication #1 ] refilled!”
Me: “I am sorry about that. Which medications are you needing refilled today?”
Patient: “All of them.”
(I start to go through her list.)
Me: “How about [Medication #3]?”
Patient: “I don’t need that one.”
Me: “How about [Medication #4]?”
Patient: “I don’t need that one, either.”
(This repeats several times.)
Patient: “I just need the ones I take regularly.”
Me: “Well, you only have two medications that you take daily, and [Medication #1 ] was filled last month. Are you needing [Medication #5 ]? I can refill that for you, though our records show you should have about ten months of refills at your mail order pharmacy.”
Patient: “I don’t know what that is. Just fill all of them for me!”
Me: “I don’t know which ones you are needing; it looks like you have refills on all of your regular medications.”
Patient: “Just ask Dr. [Name]. She’ll know what I need.”
Me: “I have your list in front of me, she won’t know more about what you need refilled than I do.”
Patient: “I’m trying to bake a pie. Just call me when you figure it out.”
Me: “Ma’am, I’m sorry but I don’t know how to help you as I’m not sure what you need.”
Patient: “Fine, I’ll call you back later. Try to figure it out for me.”
(This was one time, that while frustrating, I actually felt really bad that I couldn’t help her! She wasn’t particularly rude, just confused.)
Man Who Encases His Privates In Lead Has The Last Laugh
Awesome, Hospital, Los Angeles, Non-Dialogue, Patients, Pranks, Silly, USA | Healthy | November 16, 2018
I had testicular cancer and surgery, plus radiation therapy. These treatments needed a lead box closed around my privates. At the end of the last treatment, when the nurse pulled my sheet off to remove the box, he found…
A popped-out single-use turkey thermometer indicating I was done. I had saved it from the Thanksgiving turkey just to place in my navel after the treatment.
He had to run from the room before bursting into laughter
Bus Station, Crazy Requests, Health & Body, Ignoring & Inattentive, Missouri, USA | Healthy | November 11, 2018
(I have just gotten off of work at a hospital and am waiting for a bus at a nearby bus station. I am wearing my uniform with the hospital’s name on it, and my ID badge which clearly says, “Culinary Services.”)
Driver: “Oh, do you work at [Hospital]?”
Me: “Yep.”
Driver: “Are you a nurse?”
Me: *laughing, pointing at my department on my ID* “No, I serve food.”
Driver: “Oh, well, I been having this problem every morning when I wake up; my chest hurts and I’m coughing.”
(She continues on, describing her symptoms in detail, including the color of her mucus. She swears she feels well otherwise, but mentions she was sick with flu-like symptoms earlier in the week.)
Me: *uncomfortable* “Well, that sucks.”
Driver: “What do you think it could be?”
Me: *my bus pulls up* “If I had to give my honest opinion, I’d say you have an URI from being sick earlier in the week. However, as I said, I’m not a medical professional, and you should probably see an actual doctor. [Hospital] has a clinic; I suggest going there.”
All-Bagel Diet Proven Unhealthy, But Not For The Reasons You Might Think
Doctor/Physician, Ignoring & Inattentive, Jerk, Medical Center, USA | Healthy | November 10, 2018
(I’ve struggled with disordered eating since I was fairly young; it flares up any time I get stressed and can last anywhere from just a few days to as long as a year. People who learn about my issues with food rarely take them seriously because I am overweight; I’m 5’5”, about 165 pounds, and a US size 12. At the time of this story I have been in college for about a year and am in the middle of a rough patch, and I decide to go to the university health center to seek help.)
Me: “I think I might have an eating disorder. Whenever I’m experiencing a lot of stress, I stop eating and spend all of my time in the gym.”
Doctor: *laughs* “I wish I had that problem! When I’m stressed, I head straight for the cookies! So, what brings you in here today?”
Me: “Uh… That’s why I’m here. I’m worried that I might have a problem because I starve myself.”
Doctor: *laughing again* “I hardly think you need to worry about that! A little less food and a little more exercise can only do you good!”
Me: “I… Are you sure? I mean, I’ve eaten two bagels in the last week.”
Doctor: “See, that’s your real problem! Carbs go straight to your gut, you know.”
Me: “I don’t think you understand; all I’ve eaten in the past seven days is two bagels. I tried to eat a sandwich yesterday, but I got so anxious I couldn’t swallow. I really think something is wrong.”
Doctor: “Well, if I were you, I’d try the Keto diet. It works great, and you’ll be in shape in no time!”
(I gave up then and asked her about some bruising on my limbs, for which she recommended iron supplements and weight loss. Fortunately, my roommate noticed my disordered eating a few days later and put me in touch with a local counseling clinic, where I got some actual help.)
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