Practicing Pharmacist

 

Steve as a young pharmacist just starting at Dominican, 1998

My first job in a pharmacy I learned there was a secret and foreign language pharmacists use to talk about medications. It was in 1982 in San Diego, and I was a second-year freshman at San Diego State University. As a clerk at Alvarado Medical Arts Pharmacy, the pharmacist had a genuine authenticity about him. He was a real person, he cared for his patients, and he had this huge and complicated phone bank that was specifically for all of the doctors in the medical clinic to get ahold of him. Lights would flash and he would pick up one of the lines, knowing exactly who he would be conversing with. He then went on talking this completely unknown medical language, as if it were some sort of secret society. I wanted it and was willing to do what it took to get it. I quickly learned how to type prescriptions, stock pharmacy shelves, run accounts receivable and manage the front end of a small clinic pharmacy. This was fantastic. I enjoyed the interactions with customers, the comradery with my fellow employees and learning all I could about this unknown world of pharmacy.

As a first-year pharmacy student, my next pharmacy job was working in an independent pharmacy in downtown Stockton.  Unfortunately, the owner didn't want the pharmacy students doing any of the pharmacy work, mainly I was out front, stocking the shelves with stuffed animals and other gifts. This position didn’t last long, maybe two months, when a position opened up at Fry's grocery store pharmacy. I quickly applied and was accepted as my first pharmacist intern position, smock and all. This position included typing, filling, counseling, and all sorts of real-life pharmacy activity. I was able to stay at this position for nearly 18 months until I was sent out on clinical rotations.

At University of the Pacific, clinical rotations involve participating in six different areas of pharmacy practice for six weeks each. Fortunately, I had the amazing opportunity of traveling to Hawaii and working in our program set up in the Tripler Army Medical Center on Oahu. There were eight of us pharmacy students, and we would meet each morning in the basement of this tremendously huge hospital in a tiny little office before we went off to our assignments for the day. Throughout the course of the year, we were exposed to all types of clinical, retail and administrative pharmacy practice.

During this time in Hawaii, one of my rotations took place in the Cardiac Care Unit. One of our duties as pharmacy students was to respond to the general area of the bedside whenever a code-blue was called. As a student, our main goal was to just observe and stay out of the way. The resident physicians and intern doctors were not looking at the pharmacy students for advice on what to do next. They had their protocol; however, it was important for us to see and experience how these events transpired. 

In one particular case, this lady in her late 90's was brought back to life after a few minutes of resuscitation. Next, the team decided to place a catheter down into her heart so they could better measure her heart function. As a teaching hospital, I'm not really certain if they were doing this to help ensure an improved quality of life for their patient, or, teaching an aspiring medical intern how to place this type of catheter. My point in talking about this is that she was looking at me and was in pain. I stepped forward, receiving approval from the resident physician, and reached out my hand. I held her hand while they poked and needled her for about 30 minutes. Her name was Mrs. Mooney and she was all alone on the island of Hawaii. Her husband was a retired navy man who had passed away some years earlier and she had no children or other family on the island. I could tell we connected, I learned a little bit about being present for patients, and she had someone's hand to hold for the last 30 minutes of her life. She coded again toward the end of her procedure and passed.

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