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| Couldn't resist them long enough to take a photo of the finished baked product. |
Had one of those horrible days at work where you will think back and remember it all. Sometimes you work your hardest and then some, and you don't get much of even a pat on the back or a simple "thank you". I work not looking for validation or even acknowledgement, because the only person's expectations I need to live up to and prove that I've worked to my fullest with my best ability is me. At the end of the day, I can sleep at night knowing that I've done my part as a pharmacist, as a coworker... as a person with heart.
I've gone and made prescription deliveries to homes after a night shift because I know they desperately need their medication. I've gone and delivered something as simple as a snap cap to a patient in Burnaby Gen. Hosp. knowing that something even so small as that could make a life of a difference to a 85 year old lady with arthritis. I wasn't allowed in to the hospital at 10:30pm, so I made those necessary calls to get a nurse to come down from her ward. I've delivered equipment to H.O., crossing two cities, because even express delivery wouldn't make it on time. I've stayed overtime to help out my coworkers... hoping that even a little extra may make their work day even if only just a tiny bit better. When I am given the time to do my job properly (during clinics), you can't even imagine how many times patients have told me they appreciate all that I've done. I've had a patient call me right before her heart surgery, to tell me that in case she doesn't make it, she wanted me to know that I've helped tremendously with her therapy and that I've made a difference in her life. I've done community work to help make a name for the company, and I continue to do so.
I don't wish to be management or "make my way to the top" in hopes for money nor am I that person who likes to work on my certifcations just to attach more abbreviations to the end of my name. But I do darn try my hardest to be the best that I could be. It's not a glorifying job, one of my friends had said. I can handle the misnomer of my job description as "you only count pills", because those who I've helped knows for real what I do. And those who don't, don't matter. I don't go around telling everyone, hey, I've done an awful lot around here so please give me credit (well, until now). That isn't me.
But please, don't ever dare tell me that I didn't try hard enough. Or to even ever so slightly imply that I am not consistent. And to have me sign a paper to agree with it? What am we? In Grade 5?
I came home from my night shift at work, took my shower, and pull out my box of Thomas Haas sparkle cookies from the freezer. I plopped them onto a baking sheet and shoved them into the oven.
I looked at the clock. 11:20pm. (Way too late for dessert but who makes up these rules...).
10 minutes later, I scooped a half-scoop of vanilla ice cream on top of my perfectly baked chocolate cookies and with my bowl, I sunk into my couch with my feet propped up. I simply let all that chocolately heaven melt all the tension away.
Plus, I'm meeting up with Shum and Ming tomorrow which only means I'm set for a better day.
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