Idle Time at the Pharmacy

At one point in my life, I thought I wanted to be a nurse. I was great at biology in school– got A’s in every class I took in the subject, and I really enjoyed it. Also, I am a reasonably caring person, and I have a family history of medical caretaking. My paternal grandmother was a nurse’s aid and cared for others all her life. Her best friend, we’ll call her second grandma since she happened to abscond with my grandfather and lived with him for the rest of their lives, was also a nurse. One could make the argument that she wasn’t so caring, but she was, indeed, a nurse.

I never really went that far with the I-want-to-be-a-nurse-thought, though, for two major reasons:

1. I was pretty sure I actually wanted to be a psychotherapist.

This was a more innocent time in my life, when I still liked people. Before I worked in direct social service for four years and became clear that my mission in life is to help “people” as a group and not as individuals. Because, really, individuals tend to get on my nerves a bit.

2. I am deathly afraid of needles.

I was pretty sure this was not a fear that I could ever work through enough to be comfortable forcing a piece of metal into someone else’s flesh. In that subconscious part of my brain that tells me right from wrong, the skin is a barrier and it is supposed to retain its integrity. It should not be breached. It’s not supposed to be poked, prodded, and separated by a needle – not matter how sterile – for blood to be taken out or other assorted liquids to be injected in. But I digress.

So, I made a decision early that, although I am hugely interested in nursing, I am not to be a nurse. I am, however, typically fairly comfortable in medical settings – which can only be a good thing with the child I have.

But today, I was at a local pharmacy, and just seeing the products on the shelves gave me a bit of the willies and reiterated that, although I don’t know what I want to do with my life, nursing probably isn’t for me.

The first thing I spotted was Prostate Ezee Flow Tea. As a disclaimer, I am fully aware that prostate problems can be serious and may be very painful. So, it’s not the “prostate” part of the product that is funny. It is the product name. Ezee Flow Tea? What? Let’s go for the spelling angle first, is “ezee” really a more effective marketing phrase– an attention getter! – than using the correct spelling of “easy”? And why, for the love of god and all that’s holy must you call it “ezee flow” tea? It just made me want to giggle like I was a fifth grader (hee hee hee). This cannot be the reaction that the folks at Ezee Flow were looking for.

Second was an eye patch. Really, if you need an eye patch, good things aren’t happening for you. Either you have lost an eye – not good. OR you have some sort of eye injury – probably from a sharp, pointy object and you’re about to lose an eye –no good either. OR you have some sort of eye infection which will most likely lead to your losing your eye – also not good. OR you are recovering from eye surgery that you had rather than lose that eye – while better than the others, this is still not good. (I get queasy just thinking about eye stuff. I hated that scene in Patriot Games. Eck.)

And finally I saw – before I made myself stop looking at the shelves and simply concentrated on the getting out of the store - special band aids to keep wounds moist. Is it weird that I just kept imagining bugs, mosquitoes mostly, getting caught in said moist wounds and having to fight their way out? Anyway, I certainly understand in theory why you’d want to keep a wound wettish, but the imagery is pretty gross when you think about it. Which I did. A lot.

So, I beat feet out of the pharmacy glad that I didn’t decide to pursue a medical career. And also glad that I don’t have to wear an eye patch, drink easy flow tea, and don’t - at this moment - have a wound that I must keep moist.