Days Three and Four- Area L August 6 and 7th 2002
Well, I am certainly not at Eckerd in Chapel Hill, North Carolina anymore. I have been transplanted to a place where everyone has diabetes, farms, and is on Medicaid. Of course, this is a rash three-day generalization but there is a lot of truth to it.
I am at an independent pharmacy in Jackson, North Carolina. Jackson is so small it doesn’t have a stop light, and without even blinking I drove right through it, which made me late on my first day. My preceptor is the owner and he was annoyed with me for being late and then laughed at me when I told him what I did. “There is just a blinking light here, how in the world did you miss us”, he asked while glaring at me. I didn’t want to tell him that I was speeding, blasting my music, while chugging as much coffee as possible, so I just gave a giggle, apologized, and promised I wouldn’t be late again. And, how I could help? I could already tell he could not wait to get rid of me. It is day three and I still don’t know what is going on at the pharmacy yet and I hate feeling so helpless. There are two technicians that have worked here for decades, and I can tell they really care about each other, and they also cannot wait to get rid of me. I don’t know the computer system, and everyone is so busy in their familiar roles that I end up in the back room just trying to study something pharmacy related until they have time to teach me something.
It is a challenge to keep warm and not eat all my lunch before lunchtime. I am at the bottom of the pole, so I am left in the dark and not to mention the cold. I really hate being cold all day and this pharmacy is freezing and always smells like cigarette smoke. This is going to sound like I am lying to you, but people are smoking inside the pharmacy. And they don’t have to smoke just in one particular spot; they can smoke anywhere in the pharmacy. Rose, one of my pharmacy school classmates and good friends is engaged to Tony, a wonderful man who happens to be from Jackson, North Carolina.
One of Tony’s family members came by the pharmacy today complete with a big hug just to check on me during her lunch break. This gesture was really generous, thoughtful, and kind. I was so in shock that she would do this for someone she barely knew that I didn’t realize it had also shocked the hell out of the rest of the pharmacy. I came out of my back room to a bunch of variations of the same “how in the world do you know her” questions. At least it got the pharmacy talking to me and I think some people even learned my name. This visit from Tony’s family has changed everything, I can feel it, and I can only trust that in time it will all get better.
More good news is that Monte is here, and we share a room, carpool, and eat together every day and yes, I look forward to all of it. She is at the clinic next door with Melinda who is another pharmacy school classmate of ours. The pharmacy closes for an hour for lunch everyday which is a luxury Eckerd does not give its employees. It took me three days to realize that the part that makes it feel so luxurious is not the extra 30 minutes; it is that people respect the lunch break. We can really just sit down and eat with no interruptions which is something I have never done at Eckerd. During their 12-hour shift, the Eckerd pharmacists I work with get a 30-minute lunch from 2:00 pm to 2:30 pm and I can honestly say that not only is it rarely respected, but people get downright angry about it. I can’t tell you the number of times people yelled at me “I have to wait longer because the pharmacist is at LUNCH!? Unbelievable”! Then if I am lucky, they will snatch their prescription back and go elsewhere or they will ask me how many more minutes they have to wait as they stand there glaring at me only taking a break to try and spot the pharmacist behind me.
Meanwhile there is no real place for the pharmacist to hide from their adoring public except sitting on the floor with their back resting on the refrigerator inhaling a Lean Cuisine or some supermarket sushi. Sometimes I have found them just sitting there with their head in their hands, eyes closed but this is on the rare occasion the pharmacist decided to actually take a lunch break instead of using the time to catch the pharmacy up. I always do my best to try and protect their 30 minutes, but my fake smile can only do so much and lately it feels like it is not nearly enough.