Bog Mummy, Take the Wheel

He is no longer with us but the painting will forever remain in a place of honor at our pharmacy. May 2019: All it takes is one person to remember that there’s a human being underneath this white coat and I’m instantly reduced to a blubbering mess. Funny how one single encounter has the preternatural power to erase a year’s worth of feeling inadequate. I live for the moments that remind me why being a pharmacist is all I ever want to be and, even though it might sound crazy, it’s okay. Now classically I do better with my lady patients, you know, for obvious reasons. Men over thirty on the other hand are oftentimes a struggle. I mean what guy wouldn’t be intimidated by my sheer presence, dashing good looks and huge, ego? So when my technician inauspiciously announced, “Shane this gentleman says he has something for you.” I was not optimistic. The man who stood across from me at the consultation counter had been in there seemingly a million times. I think most pharmacies have at least one similar patient. He speaks soft and slow, has those kind eyes you just can’t fake, and every other day he comes in to ask the same three questions. You still see glimpses of the person he was a decade earlier, before the first signs arrived. He knows he forgets and prefaces the day’s questioning with, “I’m sorry I probably asked you this already but...” Today he didn’t ask. He looked at me and smiled, “I painted this for you. Along time ago I used to be an artist. Every time I come in here you’re running around like the place is on fire but you still make time to be kind and answer an old guy like me’s questions. I really hope you like it.” An ugly cry over some brushed canvas trees, mountains and water were on the menu as the artist wasted no time and began to ask me those same three questions. I answered, thankful and blessed as I smiled through the tears. #accidentalpharmacist #artist #healthcareworkers