After we had our son we decided that we would move back to
our home town so that we could be close to family to help. Our son has a great relationship with both
sets of his grandparents. He spends a
lot of time with them and this has helped him to become the wonderful and
caring boy he is.
About 6 months ago I developed a slight tinge in my hip. This tinge gradually migrated to my lower
back and down my left leg. It affects me
to the point now that I have difficulty walking more than one block. For those people who know me and know of my
love of recreational sports you can imagine how much this bothers me. I have been diagnosed with severe
sciatica. Tests with my pain management
specialist show that I have a high tolerance for pain, which is a good thing,
because if I did not I would not be able to continue working. I cannot take any type of pain killers for
this pain as sciatica is basically fake pain.
The only thing wrong is a pinched sciatic nerve which tricks my body
into thinking there is something wrong with my hip, leg and foot.
For the past two months I have been having regular physio
therapy, as well as having a series of intra-spinal steroid injections (which
are a real treat I might add, and make me once again thankful that I have a
high tolerance for pain and have also given me a true appreciation for pregnant
women who have epidurals). I have slowly
been improving. My goal is to get better
without having surgery. I occasionally
have a setback in therapy but this is to be expected. This chronic pain has also given me a greater
respect for patients who are dealing with chronic pain. There are times when I just wish it would go
away so I could go to the park and play with my son. I can understand now why individuals with
chronic pain can develop depression, can become hooked on meds.
I will get better. Of
this I have no doubt, but it will take time.
So how does this relate to the title of this post, you may
be asking. Well allow me to elaborate. A couple of blogs ago I ranted about people who
complain about the fact that I do not open my pharmacy in the evenings or on
weekends. How dare I put my family first
when I should be working 80 hours a week to provide service to ungrateful sheep
who can’t get their shit together. The
thing is, I could really give a shit about people who bitch about the fact that
I choose to spend time with my family versus being in the pharmacy. Complain all you want about me.
Also, when I took over my pharmacy I came into an
environment where a previous pharmacist seemed to believe that Bylaws and Ethics
were secondary to profit. Who gives a
shit if you haven’t seen your doctor in 3 years, here’s another 3 month
refill. What’s that, you have a sore
throat, here’s some amoxil! The list of
unethical and outright illegal shit is long.
Unfortunately, all these things which made people think this pharmacist
was a good pharmacist were the reason the pharmacist was a bad one. People, unfortunately, do not realize that we
often need to protect them from their own stupidity and so once again they
bitch about me being an awful pharmacist because I’m not willing to go down
that road. Fuck ‘em, go somewhere else
then, I’m not losing my license for you, and go ahead and spread rumours about
the awful pharmacist who makes you go see your physician early or who won’t
just give you drugs because you think you have a sore throat. That shit doesn’t bother me.
Ultimately, I am a father and husband first, a son and
brother to my family second, a friend to my friends third, and a pharmacist
last. A pharmacist is part of who I am
but it is not who I am.
So you can imagine my utter outrage and disgust when I find
out that there are rumours circulating in my town that the long-term pain issue
with which I am dealing is merely a cover for the fact that I am having an
affair on my wife. Secondarily, I have
chosen this issue so that I can have fake physio therapy appoinments so I can
go spend time with the woman I am having an affair with.
If there was ever one time I wish my blog was not anonymous this
is it. I use this blog to rant and rave
in an attempt to maintain sanity. To
protect the personal health information of individual (which I think is
important) I blog anonymously. But there
comes a time when I am utterly disgusted with individuals in a small town. Some people are obviously not happy unless
others are miserable. There is only one
thing that pushes me over the edge, and that is when people would imply that I
am an unfaithful husband or bad father. You
can bitch about me being an asshole pharmacist.
You can think I’m a bad person because I’m an atheist and not an
indoctrinated Christian sheep. None of
these things matter to me.
But if you dare imply or spread rumours that I am a bad
father or husband and you will feel my full wrath. I struggle to convince my wife who grew up in
a city that living in a small town is great for raising a child. I try to have
her understand that you need to have thick skin and just ignore the
rumours. People wonder why we cannot
attract young medical professionals to live in a small town, or to have them
stay once they are here, but I must confess when this type of thing happens I often
question this myself. Maybe moving back
to the city and becoming a corporate whore pharmacist who works 40 hours a week
just to collect a cheque is where it’s at.
J
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