Something To Believe In

The perfect stress buster for work...ROCK CONCERTS. :) I spent yesterday evening screaming and jumping at the Poison 20th Anniversary Tour. It was Poison, Cinderella, and some little band called EverAfter. EverAfter actually put on a really good show - and they have a couple hell of a talented guitar players. Cinderella and Poison were awesome - period. My brother got me Poison's Swallow This Live CD when I was 10. I used to blare it on my little stereo in my bedroom and wish I could see them in concert. Now I've seen them three times. :) One of my all time favorite Poison song is "Something to Believe In." Last night, when they were performing it live, I thought of the veteran hospital I work at. I thought of the Vietnam Vet in the ICU because he tried to commit suicide - which incidently is actually a line in the song. I also thought of the terminal cancer Veteran that I've been making morphine cassettes for this week. I could see him sitting in his little wheelchair with his baseball cap in watching the fish swim in the pond in front of the nursing home. And I have to admit, I got a little choked up. I have often wondered why so many lose and so few win. It shakes my faith at times. At the same time, I found myself swelling with pride knowing that I am working with the vets. It's extremely rewarding.

Today I rolled out of bed at 5:30, with 4.5 hours of sleep under my belt. My ears were ringing, my voice was hoarse, but I got up and went to work. The concert was definitely worth the tiredness I experienced today. I vented a lot of stress (screaming, jumping, and singing will do that). So when's Buckcherry coming to town?! :)

Don't Mind My Track Marks

This past week at my residency was spent training as discharge pharmacist. Basically this position consists of going to patients' rooms when the doctor writes the discharge medications and counseling the patient on these new meds. It's a pretty easy position, and one of my favorite - mainly because it gets me out the basement and face-to-face with patients. I spent a significant amount of time on the psychiatric floor at my facility this week. One of the guys I discharged actually kind of scared me. It think it was the way his eyes appeared to bug out of his head and rotate...in opposite directions. Apparently, 72 hours with no heroin will do this. This particular individual was admitted because he tried to shoot heroin into his lower leg and ended up giving himself a nasty infection. I still don't see how he thought he could hit a vein in his calf muscle...but that's beside the point. When I went to counsel him, I didn't know he was detoxing from heroin. I thought he was a PTSD or depression patient. He invited me into his room, which I kindly declined. I offered instead to speak to him in the day room (a room enclosed in glass that is monitored quite closely by the psych nurses). He reluctantly agreed. He didn't care about his antidepressants or his antibiotics. He was mainly concerned about receiving a cream for his "bug bites." I returned to my office and phoned his psychiatrist. She prescribed an antifungal cream, which I found an odd choice for bug bites. I decided to read his chart to find out what exactly was going on. Great idea! For those bumps on his forearms were NOT bug bites, but rather infected track marks. I wanted to go back up and tell him to stop injecting into those sites, but figured it was a lost cause. He looked like he had lost venous access in his arms ages ago...and this probably explains why he was trying to shoot heroin into his calf muscle. Perhaps his eyes were rotating in his head due to the fact that he's probably injecting into his eye lids?? Who knows. I am definitely losing some of my naiveness...and I have become quite good and hiding my "Oh my God, you did what?!?" face. Trust me, some of the stories patients tell me make it quite difficult to hide the face.

Humbling Experience

Last week at my hospital, the traumatic brain injury department held an open house. This particular department is relatively new at the facility, and I was really interested in their work. They work with individuals who have disabilities secondary to a traumatic brain injury. There's a lot of physical therapy and occupational therapy, as well as counseling and cognitive therapies. I was greeted at the door by a guy about my age with a cane. He smiled and welcomed me to the open house. After signing in, I was introduced to all the physicians, nurses, case workers, physical therapists, and occupational therapists. Finally, I was introduced to the guy who greeted me at the door...a young man who received a traumatic brain injury in Iraq. It was a humbling experience to say the least. Here was a man, very close to me in age, reduced to a Parkinson-like shuffle, dependent on a cane to walk, and totally incapable of managing his own medications. He was a very nice guy. We talked about the facility and his rehabilitation. He complemented me on my necklace, which he thought was beautiful. We both decided to be "daring" and try the neon green punch. He also has a bionic ear because his injury left him deaf in his right ear. His strength was admirable to say the least. He doesn't consider himself handicapped...but very lucky to be alive. Wow... I thought about all the silly things in my life that get me down sometimes, and I felt selfish. Then he told me that he didn't know where he'd be without the pharmacists at the facility. He said they always answer his questions and are so nice when they give him his medications. He thanked me for caring. Now, whenever I fill the medication cart for his ward, I smile when I get to his drawer. I know he'll be happy to receive his medications...and thankful that we all care so much.

A Movie for All Americans

I had the opportunity this past weekend to watch Good Night and Good Luck, the movie documenting the historical take down of Senator Joe McCarthy by journalist Edward R. Murrow. The movie was not only educational but also eye-opening. Being 24, I've never experienced the Cold War atmosphere. However, as I was watching the film, I kept comparing the Cold War era to the present day atmosphere. Now Americans are not accused of being Communists if they do not agree with the Government, but rather are called "terrorists" or accused of being supporters of terrorism. Post 9-11 those are harsh accusations. The Right would like all US citizens to believe that the Left is undermining national security and providing comfort to the terrorists. Hmmm...sounds like the accusations McCarthy hailed at Edward Murrow after being exposed on his nighttime news show. I found out today that I am not the only one who shares these sentiments. ROMA has provided me with a gift subscription to The Nation. I came home from my government job and unwound by reading the editorials in the most recent issue. In one of the editorials, Eric Alterman discusses the fall-out experienced by the New York Times after publishing the story detailing US attempts to track terrorist financing methods. He closes by stating, "It's a shame Joe McCarthy isn't alive to enjoy all of this." I couldn't have said it better myself.

As a side note, there are several bumper stickers advertised in the magazine that I'd like to purchase, but feel that since George W. Bush's picture hangs in the lobby of my current employer, they probably wouldn't be welcome...and may cause me to find myself on the unemployment line. For example - "As Bush lies and spies, our freedom dies." I can see the federal police towing my car away now...

Save the World Complex

I have been diagnosed by many close friends and family members with a "save the world complex." I agree with the diagnosis. When I used to work at the retail pharmacy, there were times I was tempted to dig money out of my pocket to pay for an elderly person's medication. I was with an elderly couple one day in the OTC section helping the lady pick out a fiber supplement. For anyone who's not had the pleasure of purchasing these products, they are rather expensive. Her husband carried their bread and eggs back to their respective aisles so that she could afford the fiber supplement. It was very humbling. When I relay these stories to my family, a common response is "Ahsirt, you can't save the world." I realize saving the world is a big undertaking...but is it too much to wish that you could? I bring this up because this evening I was watching an episode of Dr. 90210 (don't ask me why - I'm morally opposed to cosmetic surgery). However, in this episode, Dr. Rey volunteered with Hershey's Smiling Faces for a mission trip to Mexico. On this trip they view over 100 patients and select 40-60 of the most dire cases, of which they must have the equipment to help, to perform reconstructive surgery on. Most cases are cleft palates or scar removal. Dr. Rey, used to the boob jobs and liposuction of LA, had a difficult time dealing with the disparity of the region and the inability to help everyone. I think he developed part of my complex. I thought to myself that I would like to help with this type of outreach...but it would be very heart breaking to tell people no. At the end of the trip Dr. Rey returned to the boob jobs and liposuction, but he'll carry that experience with him forever. I have an innate desire to help fellow humans. Maybe that will help treat this complex - because I certainly don't want to be "cured" of wanting to help my neighbors...just to be able to accept that it's ok if I can't save the world. Saving one person is a step in the right direction.

Queen of Inputting

I spent my first non-orientation week of my residency training in the inpatient pharmacy. Monday through Thursday were spent renewing orders and occassionally filling new orders. Today the supervisor turned the flight deck, as they like to call the inputting station, over to me. I inputted prescriptions, flagged orders, discontinued orders, answered the telephone, coached nurses through med administration, and calculated morphine doses for patients in the ICU. There are still a few things that I don't understand about their computer system, but it is slowly coming to me. I think the hardest thing for me at this point is to stop asking for verification. I am the pharmacist - I don't need anyone to check my work. That's a hard concept for me to grasp. I'm pretty comfortable about the aspirin and nitroglycerin patches I sent up...but when it comes to calculating the mL of morphine the nurse should inject out of the prefilled syringe to only give the patient 25mg, I like to have a second set of eyes check the order. I suppose that's not exactly a bad thing, and I've been told that it takes a while to switch from "pharmacy intern" mode to "pharmacist" mode. I figure a couple more days on the flight deck and I'll be ready for my weekend staffing position. So - the residency is moving along smoothly and I'm starting to remember why I loved this facility when I completed a rotation there. :)