Communication

You know what is a fun word? Oxymoron. 

 It's a word where you sound as if you are making up a word, trying to insult someone in a unique way, or just trying to be smart and failing.  Normally, things like jumbo shrimp, fast snail, and tall hobbit come to mind, but what about this one: pharmacist counseling.

Pharmacist

Biochemistry, Medicinal chemistry, Pharmaceutics, Pharmacology, Pharmacokinetics, Molecular Biology and Biotechnology, Anatomy and Physiology..the life of a pharmacy student is stock full of science.  We are in the process of learning three new languages simultaneously.  One language is the language of drugs: drug names (brand and generic) and dosing information.  The second language is the language of science: enzymes, functional groups, reactions, products, cause and effect etc. And, the final language is the language of clinical terms: rhabdomyolysis,  pruritus,  orthostatic hypotension, somnolence.  

Learning all of these languages is what makes pharmacy school difficult, for keeping every -itis, -osis, and -ase straight is something of a miracle.  

Counseling

Here is where the oxymoron comes into play.  You see, every day I learn more and more of the three languages that will make up my profession.  We have discussions where we all can't believe that such things came out of our mouths.  For instance, a text I sent one of my friends a while back read, "The notes say that 5-FU is a bioisostere of uracil, makes sense from the name, but how is it not more related to thymidine since it has a 5' substituent?"  Specialized jargon is expected to come with any job that you go into, and the excitement of one day understanding that jargon with no problems is always thrilling.  However, when you forget what ataxia is or the clinical term for a bumpy nose on a test, the jargon can become a much despise thing.  And here is the real kicker: in all of our professional classes, we are learning to completely ditch the jargon all together.

It makes sense.  What patient is going to calmly understand, "this cream  may cause erythematous maculopapular reactions and pruritus."  No, if I were given that list before pharmacy school, I would promptly give the drug back to the pharmacist and say, "No thanks, I'm a fan of staying alive." We are trained to turn that medical mumbo jumbo into "this cream may cause your skin to become irritated."  Those side effects still don't sound fun, but they aren't a death sentence.  

Pharmacist Counseling

"Pharmacist counseling" is an oxymoron because we are taught and tested over this entire medial (clinical) language, but then promptly told not to ever use it.  The translation to patient I can understand the need for, but what really makes me throw my hands in the air is the existence of the language itself. If it were something that transcended world language, I would again understand the need for clinical terms; however, I just looked up "pruritus" in spanish, and it is "prurito," according to Google Translate.  When every ounce of brain storage space is needed, one can't help but start wondering at the necessity of the information going in.  One good thing does come from learning the language: you sound so smart speaking it!  

Windshield Wipers---Who Knew?

Finally!  I have exactly 11 days of no tests; it is as if I am on an unofficial fall break. 

Just to give you an idea of how stressful school has been lately: in 6 weeks, I have had 8 tests and 27 quizzes!  Some tests have gone well, and others...let's just say I'm not going to depress myself by looking at the grade.  For 6 weeks, I have studied for one test hardcore and the studied hardcore for the next one, and the next and the next.  For the next three days, I am not going to crack open one book, powerpoint, or word document pertaining to pharmacy school.

So, about two weeks ago, I was walking in my carport and saw a black tarp I was using to spray paint some chairs with puddles in it.  For a little back story, the mosquitoes have been absolutely horrid this year, and due to the drought, West Nile has become a big concern here.  It seemed that anytime it was finally feeling livable outside I would get bitten by one of those vexatious little vampires and forced back inside the house.  I would check everywhere to make sure I didn't have any sitting water for the buggers to bred in.  Well, those puddles were already teaming with little mosquito spawn, so I started to shake the tarp out.

What should fall onto my bare feet but a snake!

I didn't see the snake first, just felt something worm-like fall onto my feet, then looked down to see an eight inch brown snake.  Some valuable information about myself was learned in those few moments: when I get startled, I don't scream.  A little yip of "yeek" escapes me while the tarp is tossed away from me, and I leap about five feet backwards.  The snake lands at the edge of my carport and just sits there, maybe playing dead?  For what seemed like five minutes, I just stood next to my car staring at this anomaly of urban living.  Back at home, I would totally expect a snake to surprise me because we have woods in our backyard.  But in the middle of the city??!!! Snakes don't belong here.  Rodents and cockroaches should be the only vermin in the area.  

So, for those five minutes, I was just trying to make sense of the creature in front of me.  I also started thinking about what kind of a snake it was.  Back home, with copperheads and cottonmouths being prevalent, we have the philosophy of kill on sight, unless it is without a doubt not poisonous.  This little snake didn't look like a copperhead, but I hadn't ever seen a baby copperhead; its pattern could be a little different from the adult version.  I just knew that five minutes ago I didn't think that snakes existed in the city, so could copperheads exist?  A poisonous snake was something I didn't want around the house, so I decided that this snake had to be taken care of. 

But with what, I was standing bare foot outside.  I didn't want to run inside for a knife because 1) I didn't have a knife long enough to keep my hand away from striking distance 2) running outside with a knife may look disturbing to the neighbors and 3) I didn't want it to slither away while I was gone.  Some tools were kept in my car, so I quietly made my way to unlatch the trunk and see what was available.  Unfortunately, there was nothing suitable.  I was about to shut my trunk when I saw the old windshield wipers laying in the very back.  

When I started driving, my dad told me to keep my old windshield wipers when I switched them out.  You never know when oil could be splashed onto your windshield while it was raining and ruin your current wipers.  So, I grabbed one of the wipers to check it out.  It was about a foot and a half long and had some heavy metal on it for the blade support.  Weighing this potential weapon in my hand, I looked back to the still present snake and decided to try it.  I crept up to the snake and held the wiper blade-side up.  When I was about two feet away, I extended the wiper until it was hovering just above the snake's neck.  Heart beating fast, I drew in a deep breath, counted to three, and then hammered the wiper as hard as I could onto the concrete.  I wanted this to be as quick and painless as possible.

One whack was all it took.  In one quick motion, the snake was no longer a threat.  I had just done for the first time what my dad had done my whole life, and now that the act was done, I felt guilty.  This was my first blood-filled creature to kill with malicious intent (except for mosquitoes).  I watched as its mouth reflexively opened and closed, a good reminder to always take a snake's head seriously despite the lack of body behind it.  It was only a baby, and upon closer inspection, it wasn't a copperhead, just a garden snake.  But, I just couldn't risk the chance of it being poisonous.  There are plenty of snakes in the world.

At that moment, the mailman walked up, and it suddenly struck me just how odd the situation was.  Here was a girl holding a windshield wiper in her hand over a beheaded snake.  He seemed to handle the strange occurrence well, not even asking about the scene as he delivered the mail.

I looked at the wiper in my hand and couldn't help but think about one of Flynn Rider's many famous quotes.

A Cry for Compassion

I believe that this story exemplifies where we stand as a people.  

It is one that invokes so many emotions; I am having trouble filtering through the thoughts from both my mind and my heart to compose a coherent transcription of my views.  I truly need to study some Molecular Technology and Biotechnology at the moment, but after watching the video and reading its comments, I can't sit by without some comment on the issue.

A little background about myself: I come from a family of people who constantly fight with the scale.  My whole life, I have struggled with my weight, not quite becoming "obese" but definitely toeing the line.  I am also short and have arm hair that is dark and very noticeable.  I've always joked that if we were back in caveman times, I would be the ultimate survivor because I would only need a small cave, be kept warm a little better, and my body knows how to get and store every single calorie that I eat.  Now, this view comes from my philosophy of living by the positive, and while it may come a little more naturally to me than others, being optimistic is ALWAYS a choice.  I have certainly struggled and still struggle with self-image issues, as society trains us to intently focus on the negative.  I am not tall, I am not skinny, I am not the most outgoing, and I don't have flawless skin.  But, I am so blessed with love from the Highest King, I have irreplaceable family and friends, I have the opportunity to become a pharmacist and help people with their ailments, and I have an entire world full of people, stories, and knowledge to enjoy.

It is how I look AT life rather than how I look IN life.  I am stuck with my height, hair, and genes for food preservation.

Now, I am going into the medical field, so of course I am taught nearly every day how important it is to maintain a healthy weight and life style.  My dream career contains the chance to help those with health issues such as high weight, high blood pressure, and diabetes achieve a more fulfilling life through health improvement.  I want to work against job security; I want to get people off of their medicines.

But, pharmacy school isn't all science; it is also about patient care and compassion.  We are trained not to be medical slave drivers but supporters and guides of our patients' health.  Telling a patient that they are fat and not a good role-model to our children won't get anything done.  That statement is basically saying, "Hey, I don't care about you or how you feel or what you've done, but you make me sick.  Now get!"  Perhaps the viewer of this anchor had good intentions, for promoting healthy living isn't a bad thing, but you have to start by caring about the person.  I try to watch my weight and support those around me who also battle the scale because I know that with extra weight generally comes cardiovascular disease and diabetes.  These two health issues complicate and exhaust life so much.

BUT, a healthy life isn't worth living without confidence and satisfaction.

That is the message here.  Mrs. Livingston seems confident, successful, and happy with herself, and what is wrong with that example to young girls?  The comments to this video just tear my heart to pieces for they are so full of remarks meant to cut a person down.  That is bullying, and it isn't productive.  If we all tried to be a little more compassionate, just imagine how many good role-models there would be for our children.  

I challenge you, for every negative you find in a person, look for two positives.  And if you can't do that, then be a positive in their life and be compassionate.