Knowing that you know.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
One of my most nervous days in Pharmacy was the first day I worked as a registered pharmacist. I still remember the first 'script I handed out.
But what was different? I'd worked my 2000 hours, I knew my stuff and I could run the day-to-day workings of a pharmacy without having to think about it all too hard. I could dispense safely, I'd passed my reg exams. Why was I nervous?
That first 'script was Augmentin Duo Forte - the common cure-all antibiotic - which further pushed the point home.
"This one's twice a day, ideally with food, but it doesn't matter. Have you had it before? No? Okay, are you allergic to anything? Penicillin?" and on I went. I counselled until the lady wanted to leave. But I was safe.
I was responsible. The line.
That morning on the way to work, I'd thought about the doom and gloom legal lectures from Pharm school, about pharmacists, either incompetent, hapless or nonchalant who'd dispensed without thinking, or counselling or practicing pharmacy. How they'd hurt patients. How they'd been sued. Or deregistered.
Responsibility hit me. It wasn't a sudden thing; my preceptors had ensured that over the 11 months of pre-reg that I'd been accountable for my actions, slowly but surely, and that I was safe and aware.
That first day (or week, in all honesty), was like getting my P-licence for driving. I was aware of the ramifications of my actions (or inactions). It reminded me of the whole learning to drive process;
1. Aged five. You don't know that you don't know. Cars drive around the streets. Mummy or Daddy sit behnd the wheel and do stuff and you go places.
2. Aged fifteen. You know that you don't know. The engine's on, why aren't we going? What does that pedal do? What's a clutch? This is hard.
3. Aged sixteen. You know that you know. I can drive. Check my mirror, into first and takeoff. Indicate at the roundabout. A policecar! Brake on the straight before it's too late.
4. Aged twenty-five. You don't know that you know. Off to work. What's on the radio? This station sucks. Which CD? I hope I can find a park. Yurgh, this traffic!
In the same way that drivers are not immune from accidents, Pharmacists are not immune from errors. But, when conditions get tough, the good driver lets their training kick in and reverts to basic principles. Same goes for pharmacy. Every time.
This line of thinking was triggered by a conversation I had today with one of the interns at the hospital. She mentioned that she found it hard to relax and switch off during the prolific downtime afforded during weekends 'on call'. At first I thought that this was a bit silly. I mean, if there's no work to do and everyone's healthy, you can relax, right?
At the pharmacy, if there's actually no work to do then I relax. I'm not a 'newspaper pharmacist*', but if there's not work to be finished then, well, it's okay to chill out; the patients will come to you. Meantime, grab a glass of water. Have a bathroom break for the first time in ten hours. If something happens, no worries, you'll handle it. Worst case scenario you have to call someone else. You've seen plenty. Your basics are good.
Then I remembered that feeling of responsibility. It doesn't surprise me in the slightest that three months into the term, an intern still buzzes through the whole shift on call.
*Newspaper Pharmacists will get their own wee post in the coming weeks.
But what was different? I'd worked my 2000 hours, I knew my stuff and I could run the day-to-day workings of a pharmacy without having to think about it all too hard. I could dispense safely, I'd passed my reg exams. Why was I nervous?
That first 'script was Augmentin Duo Forte - the common cure-all antibiotic - which further pushed the point home.
"This one's twice a day, ideally with food, but it doesn't matter. Have you had it before? No? Okay, are you allergic to anything? Penicillin?" and on I went. I counselled until the lady wanted to leave. But I was safe.
I was responsible. The line.
That morning on the way to work, I'd thought about the doom and gloom legal lectures from Pharm school, about pharmacists, either incompetent, hapless or nonchalant who'd dispensed without thinking, or counselling or practicing pharmacy. How they'd hurt patients. How they'd been sued. Or deregistered.
Responsibility hit me. It wasn't a sudden thing; my preceptors had ensured that over the 11 months of pre-reg that I'd been accountable for my actions, slowly but surely, and that I was safe and aware.
That first day (or week, in all honesty), was like getting my P-licence for driving. I was aware of the ramifications of my actions (or inactions). It reminded me of the whole learning to drive process;
1. Aged five. You don't know that you don't know. Cars drive around the streets. Mummy or Daddy sit behnd the wheel and do stuff and you go places.
2. Aged fifteen. You know that you don't know. The engine's on, why aren't we going? What does that pedal do? What's a clutch? This is hard.
3. Aged sixteen. You know that you know. I can drive. Check my mirror, into first and takeoff. Indicate at the roundabout. A policecar! Brake on the straight before it's too late.
4. Aged twenty-five. You don't know that you know. Off to work. What's on the radio? This station sucks. Which CD? I hope I can find a park. Yurgh, this traffic!
In the same way that drivers are not immune from accidents, Pharmacists are not immune from errors. But, when conditions get tough, the good driver lets their training kick in and reverts to basic principles. Same goes for pharmacy. Every time.
This line of thinking was triggered by a conversation I had today with one of the interns at the hospital. She mentioned that she found it hard to relax and switch off during the prolific downtime afforded during weekends 'on call'. At first I thought that this was a bit silly. I mean, if there's no work to do and everyone's healthy, you can relax, right?
At the pharmacy, if there's actually no work to do then I relax. I'm not a 'newspaper pharmacist*', but if there's not work to be finished then, well, it's okay to chill out; the patients will come to you. Meantime, grab a glass of water. Have a bathroom break for the first time in ten hours. If something happens, no worries, you'll handle it. Worst case scenario you have to call someone else. You've seen plenty. Your basics are good.
Then I remembered that feeling of responsibility. It doesn't surprise me in the slightest that three months into the term, an intern still buzzes through the whole shift on call.
*Newspaper Pharmacists will get their own wee post in the coming weeks.
