4 years

6th March, 2018

Well I had other ideas for today’s blog, but Facebook reminded me that today 4 years ago I was recovering at home, supervised by my hubby working from home, after a VERY long afternoon/night in the emergency department having finally come to the crunch point of my nervous breakdown.

It was the first day of many days off work: 6th March 2014 to 22nd July 2015.

It felt long!

It felt like it would never to over, that life would just trickle by forever. Me at home, on my own, barely able to fill the hours of the day, just dragging along until the next…what? Hour, day, week, year?

After 18 years of full time school; 4 years of full time study plus part time work; an intern year of full time work and study; and 4 years working full time (apart from a period of 9 day fortnights during 2013 for health/stress reasons, and a brave if futile attempt to get back to work and save my job by dragging myself 2 days a week to work in the outpatient dispensary at the Alfred in the month before my contract expired late 2014) it was a shock!

I didn’t know what to do with myself physically, let alone mentally. So came a long list of attempted hobbies to try to fill up my time, more or less successfully. 4 years on, some have stuck, some haven’t, but it’s a different problem now: finding time for those hobbies! Time for bird watching, for photography, for blogging, and my re-discovered love of gardening. I’m back at work, currently 4 to 5 days a week! Who would have ever thought?! And it’s cramping my style! How’s that for ironic? For months, years in fact I’m dying to get back to work, really back to working full time or close to it, and 5 minutes later I’m missing my me time!!

It could be worse. If anyone can say that it’s me. I was worse, I’ve been worse; so I really know that it could be worse. I do. But it’s the perspective you have at the time that frames how you see things. And my perspective now is mental wellness and relatively good physical health, so the smaller things weigh more, like doing my hobbies! It’s not a bad place to be, hey? Four years on.


Work work work work work work

I love my job. Really love it. I think it must show because since I started working in the emergency department (ED) a few patients have commented to me that they can tell I love my job when I’ve been talking to them about different things. It has caught me off guard but on reflection I’d have to say, yep, its true, I do love my job. I just didn’t know it was showing so much.

It’s hard to define exactly what makes me love my job, but I think a lot of it is the nature of people and interacting with different backgrounds, beliefs, natures, religions, personalities and so on.

Like this tiny, feisty, skin-and-bones 80 year old never-had-kids-now-a-widow who fell over in her house yesterday when her left leg collapsed and was on the floor for 14 hours before her friend came over to her house and found her; lucky chance, that! What did she think about a personal alarm? Oh no, she didn’t want one of those, all they do is contact your next of kin or the emergency services, what’s the point??? Uuuummmm…that would be exactly the point, so next time you aren’t on the floor so long that your muscles start to break down! Did she have a power of attorney? No, she didn’t trust anyone enough! Did she take any medications? No (emphatically no!), and “if anyone tried to give her any she put up an argument”!! Fair enough, Gretel!! Obviously you’re going to do what you want how you want when you want. Now tell us exactly how you’re going to go home with a broken arm, muscle breakdown and severe bruising, and how you’re going to dress and feed yourself…you old battleaxe you!

I get it, it sucks to be older and have a failing body and maybe mind. I’m sure I would be clinging to whatever measure of control I had remaining. But protesting for the sake of protesting…what merit is there really? I often see this battle about giving up living at home, or a driver’s licence, and its fair enough to a point. I guess its just not exactly clear at what point to surrender with grace, necessarily. Speaking for myself.

Next patient? Gorgeous, perfectly coiffed 94 year old lady (in every sense of the word) who could pass for 80, or even younger probably; in fact she reminds me strongly of a family friend about 80. And she graciously attributes it all to modern medicine and the medications that she takes religiously exactly as her doctor prescribes them! Ah, music to my ears.

And next? A 29 year old girl with a brain tumour hoping on a trial drug suffering shocking side effects from medications prescribed for conditions she no longer has/never really needed treatment for in the beginning, and never reviewed. Suffering the effects of too many doctor’s fingers in the pie of her health, and no one doctor wanting to take responsibility for all of it at once, here is someone with a real case for complaining. Unable to say what a microwave or apple is although she “felt like they were really familiar, and she should know what it was”. Disorientated in her own house, not sure where she is or where she’s meant to be. Sedated and sleeping the day away, every day. Clumsy, unsteady gait, struggling to form words, relying on family to tell her what she’s been doing all day because she’s not sure, unable to leave the house in case she can’t find her way back. Pretty bad, huh!! But she was pretty accepting of the whole thing, just waiting it out patiently. Luckily she had a mother who didn’t take things lying down, but strongly advocated for her. The only problem with having such a strong voice on your side is a lot of doctors find it “challenging” and respond poorly. It shouldn’t be like that, but…

…so although I carefully, painstakingly formed a safe, detailed plan with her and her family of how to stop some of her more problematic medication (some of which had already been started by weaning doses of some medications) without creating new problems, we struck another case of a doctor not wanting to take on the full patient situation, just wanting to treat the precise reason for coming to ED and refer everything else back to her other doctors. This is actually a reasonable approach and I get it, but it would have been nice to have made things easier for the patient right then and there. At least the patient and family took on board everything we discussed and will put that into place when they get home. A bit disappointing that we couldn’t sort it out right then and there, having the opportunity to make a real, big difference to someone’s quality of life isn’t something that’s easy to pass up, especially for a cancer patient with a lot going on. But I do understand that if the ED doctor’s delved into a patient’s other issues every time they came to ED, the whole system would grind to a halt. That’s just one of life’s conundrums.

So this is a fascination with me. One patient refuses any intervention on principle, one gratefully and faithfully takes on any direction, and one just takes being mismanaged and goes with it. People, huh? Aren’t we so weird??

Job update

Hello? Is anybody out there? Is anyone still listening?

Apologies for the radio silence over the last few months. It wasn’t for lack of ideas and thoughts to share, but more for lack of motivation and follow through. It’s been a long, cold winter for me! How about you?

The run-down of this winter is coming in instalments, because a lot has happened despite the long cold. First off, and the main event, an update on work.

I quit my old job in August, yep the same one that I started in April, and moved on to another job. I’ve never “given up” so soon! But it was a good move, probably the best career move I’ve ever made despite quitting being seen generally as a negative thing. Four months in community pharmacy, and I’m done! It wasn’t the community, it was the pharmacy, more specifically the management of the pharmacy, and more especially the owner/manager/slacker/ingrate/greedy pig/jerk. I’ve done that fight in a job once, and it changed the course of my mental health for life! This time, I knew enough not to stay, and I’m proud of that! It shows that I learnt something that first time around, and that’s a victory. As soon as I realised that the situation wasn’t going to change (another thing I’m proud of recognising this time around) and that my initiative was unappreciated, I started planning my departure.

And karma smiled. Well I don’t believe in karma, or the universe, or fate. But everything fell into place like it would if you did believe in one or the other of those things. I monitored the regular SEEK pharmacist job alerts that I’d signed up to receive before this job, as well as the Society of Hospital Pharmacists job register. I was still searching for my escape route (you know, never leave a job until you’ve got another job), when I got a call from Slade Pharmacy at Epworth Private Hospital in Richmond asking if I would like to interview for a casual position! Ah yes! I would definitely like to interview for a job with flexible hours in a hospital, albeit the dispensary! Especially since you called me; is this a dream come true? So why did they call me? Turns out that when I interviewed for them last year and didn’t get the job, they said “can we keep your resume on file?” and meant it! How about that? I thought it was just a line that everyone says when you don’t get a job as a consolation that maybe in the future there’ll be something there for you. But this time there’s an actual consolation prize in form of a job! Amazing.

So, interview, check. Job offer, check. Give notice that I’m leaving, check. Get obnoxious response from boss, check. Leave job feeling even better about my decision to leave, check. His response when I said I was leaving? “That’s a relief. Return the keys. Retail is not for you”! Sorry. You’re wrong. Retail pharmacy is for me, in fact during uni days I worked in retail pharmacy for 3 years and had a great time. But you’re right, the way you mis-manage it, it’s not for me. Ciao!

Usually when someone is looking for work, changing jobs, planning a career or whatnot, they consult their own needs and maybe that of a partner or family member. It comes down to what you want from a job, where you want to work, what you want to do in your job and that’s it. That’s true for me too, but in my case, there are a few other factors that contribute as well.

Number one: how will this job affect my health? That’s always the first consideration nowadays. Do you ever even think about this when considering a job? I certainly never did before I got sick. Could I work fulltime, could I manage the stress, how would I manage my workload? I never even thought about these as issues, I never thought about it period. I just knew inside myself that I would manage whatever came to me. I never doubted being able to do whatever job I got. I didn’t understand there being any option but doing the job well and going home to rest before going back the next day. Until the last year of my first job led to my physical health falling apart, and my mental health beginning to deteriorate. My second job was endlessly fulfilling but my mental health was already on the way out and too far gone for me to hold my head together, so I had to bow out. Ever since then I’ve been returning to work and thinking about what I can physically and mentally manage in a job.

Number two: what do my doctors think? Their opinion isn’t the end of the matter, but it has a lot of weight and sometimes it does decide the issue. My psychiatrist for instance has an old-school understanding of what hospital pharmacists do, but a very up-to-date understanding of how my previous jobs have affected my mental health. His current stipulation has been no hospitals, which of course I’ve found very challenging to accept! Hospitals are my place, I’m sure of it, but the politics of my first and third hospital jobs have been tough on my health for different reasons. So, I did what he suggested and tried retail pharmacy. I wasn’t very enthusiastic at first, but I tried to see it as a challenge, as a chance to update and broaden my drug knowledge and expand my mind with a different type of practice. But unfortunately, I found a great job in a terrible environment. I tried hard to make it work, but it began to drag me down after a couple of months and my psychiatrist could see that clearly, once referring to my ex-boss as Frankenstein’s brother, and another time as a peasant which amused me greatly! But still, when I broached my new job at Slade Pharmacy with him, I went cautiously and emphasised the words dispensary, retail, community pharmacy, and minimised the word hospital. But as it turns out, that first job as a casual dispensary pharmacist starting in September was easy to sell. Meanwhile my GP is supportive of anything that I want to put my hand to, even recommending I just not work for a while longer if it suited me. But getting back to work has always been a driving force with me, for better or for worse.

A week into my casual dispensary role, I heard someone dropping the words job and emergency department!! Wait!! What?? My favourite ever job so far! On offer right here? Where I already have a job? Ears pricked, senses heightened, on full alert I went into action finding out as much as I could. As soon as possible I interviewed for and was then offered later that week a role in the emergency department, 2 weeks into my casual dispensary position. I was more hesitant in telling my psychiatrist about that. I used words like part time, structured, working with another pharmacist, dedicated time, no involvement with the main hospital. But it went over easily. He saw how the community pharmacy thing went; we tried that. So now this is a new thing that I wanna try, and we’ll watch and wait this time.

The third and last factor is a third party checking in on the progress of my work. I’m receiving income protection payments from an insurer, and they check in on me every month. There’s a lot of filling in of forms by myself and my GP, supplying payslips when I’m working, and periodic check ins with a “rehabilitation consultant” who keeps tabs on my work and my health, and a case manager who keeps tabs generally. They do keep the pressure on to remain in paid work, of course, and they aim to get me back to full time work, something that I’m by no means convinced is possible. When I wasn’t happy in that retail job, I did experience some pressure from them to keep going rather than quit, but I was sure I was doing the right thing, and now in hindsight they agree. It’s just another little something in the mix that complicates my plans for what work I want to do and how I want to do it.


Rain, rain, not so bad…

[Monday 21st August]

It’s always a good day out with birds.

Even when the day is one of the worst this winter.

It’s raining lightly but steadily, the temperature is heading from a freezing 4 degrees to a frosty maximum of 6 degrees for a chilly winter’s day, it’s slippery and slushy underfoot, I missed my bird watching group meet time by a few minutes but saw them crossing the road as I parked, then they disappeared on me while I was getting my stuff together!!

But with some of my new resilience I decide to power on. It sucks that I missed them, but I can’t find any fault with them at all. It was a typical Danika move.

Looking at the forecast the night before I wondered if I was up for the task of wandering around for 5 hours in not only the cold, which you can dress against, but the wet. I’ve gotten wet and cold on one bird watching outing recently, feet and legs mostly, and it wasn’t fun. But I can dress warmer this time and be prepared. About that wet though, do I really want to be walking around in it through thick undergrowth for 3 of the 5 hours, according to the forecast? I couldn’t decide. Originally I definitely wanted to go because this birding outing was one that I haven’t seen come up before, a walk through the Sherbrooke Forest and…ding ding ding…lyrebirds! I’ve glimpsed a couple in the wild, and seen one at Healesville Sanctuary in their awesome recent lyrebird exhibit, but I’d love a better look!

But that wet…and so I dithered all night, didn’t make a decision, looked up what time I’d need to leave by, couldn’t decide when I woke up in the morning, called the leader to confirm it was on, slept a bit more, thought I wouldn’t go, thought I would go, left it too late and took too much time putting on my two pairs of socks, three tops, packing my 3 jackets and so I had no time for breakfast before I had to jump in the car post-haste.

This is a big flaw for me that I’m trying to work on: skipping breakfast. Actually not skipping breakfast as such, because I can’t make it to 10am if I don’t eat in the morning. I’ve always felt nauseous and faint if I don’t eat breakfast. And taking a handful of tablets on an empty stomach doesn’t go well. But I’ve also never been a morning person since I was a baby. So it’s a tussle between getting up in time for a proper breakfast and getting up, full stop! Lately this has taken the form of skipping a sustaining breakfast like my standard 2 pieces of toast with spreads for getting out the door on time, then making a 2 minute stop at the local Coles Express for something less sustaining but at least food and drink. I reserve the right to tell you what kind of food or drink I would usually pick up!

Google maps told me when I left that I was going to be 3 minutes late, as in arrival time 10.03am. This is okay, most times you can make up this difference along the way and arrive on time. Although not properly on time, which is 5 minutes early as my husband will say. In this case probably 10 or 15 minutes early would be ideal for putting on jackets, unfolding umbrellas, getting the camera ready etc. So really I’m  way behind, but I’m telling myself that 10am is okay. But still, no breakfast yet and I can’t walk around in the forest for hours without breakfast, let alone without lunch that I haven’t accounted for, and the Dandenongs aren’t really ideal for ready to go food. But luckily I did find a quick mart type general store at Tremont just before Sherbrooke forest and got some Twisties and drinks; not ideal but it’ll keep me going. Forgot to get lunch but at least this is a start. Except…


This doesn’t even show how deep the colour blue was on my tongue, fingers and lips!! What the heck?? Apparently although these Twisties look like Twisties, smell like Twisties, taste like Twisties, they are Blue Tongue Twisties! Well that’s new, and not necessarily great for me. Busted about eating Twisties though; hubby will be happy. Luckily after my afternoon nap the blue on my tongue had been digested by my mouth enzymes, but I had to scrub the life out of my lips to clear them up, and I’ve still got blue around my nails 2 days later!! Argh!

But I got myself going, and I got these:


The charming Eastern Yellow Robin


They are so skilled at gravity-defying grip onto trees


A clearer shot finally: the rain really messes with clarity


Murdering the “snake” by whipping it and mashing it and tearing it into bite sized pieces


Nearly got its head off, now to…





“Is it dead yet?”


Another flick through the air and whack! against the root


See how far around it can rotate its head? Somehow with such a large prey compared to its body it manages to get the right amount of acceleration then bang it against something hard


See how its eye looks weird? Its called a nicitating membrane. It like a second eyelid but its see-through. Birds use it to protect their eye when they still need to see but are at risk of, for instance, having half a worm flick them in the eye


Finally a bite sized piece! Yum yum, down the hatch


“Get away from my snake!!”



Uh oh. An invader. Territory wars over a juicy worm!


Standing on it should keep it safe


“Are you done yet?”


Oops, spotted me!


This is a fully zoomed out view of the little birdy. It was probably 3 metres away by my judgement, which isn’t the best. I love zoom!

A good day that came out of a shaky start; I love these days. Now home for a lovely nap.




What a goose

I always understood that saying, ‘what a goose’, to be an insult, as in to be a bit of a dill, or a duffer, or any of the other vague sayings that we’ve corrupted into terms of gentle abuse.

But after tracking and photographing Cape Barren Geese on Phillip Island on Monday (8th) I no longer think of geese, at least this species of goose, as stupid. They are so beautiful with amazing detail to their feathers, and form such great families.

Well, okay, with one exception:


That moment when one parent looks across the road to the other parent and thinks, ‘oh its not that far’…and yep, the edge of the road is just there

And maybe a second:


“I think we can make it” – this happened right on peak traffic time when every person that is going to the Penguin Parade is arriving at the Nobbies!

And the clinger, so maybe my point it lost at this moment:


“Come on kids!”


And just like that, I get turned into the crazy (well that’s nothing new) lady stopping traffic for ducks! Well geese, but the same applies!!!


Luckily the traffic is slow and expecting this kind of interruption, and they did cross pretty quickly


Nearly there, quickly quickly!


And safely across to meet up with the other parent!

But they’re still beautiful.

They just need to learn to live and eat somewhere more removed from cars.

Can you see the pleasure that can be derived from bird watching? I highly recommend it.

And the satisfaction of getting the photo isn’t bad either, although these were all marred a bit because it was raining at the time. Yes, I was standing in the rain (without an umbrella cos I didn’t really think it through!) holding up traffic while little tiny puff balls crossed the road! What has happened to me??



Let’s change it up.

This morning I came across this video, Claire Wineland on How to Live When You’re Dying, from an amazing young woman, and she has a very fresh and inspiring view on living with an illness that is incurable.

I almost feel like I don’t fit in any category with her because her illness is very physical and her life expectancy is so short. Yet here she is talking about the pitfalls of dating, the joys of living overseas and travelling, the experience of going to university, and the fun of going out with friends. Almost as though she wasn’t sick.

How’s that for a radical life? Putting your illness in the corner, and going on regardless.

She embraces a life of living so that when she dies, however soon that may be…and compared to most of us its very soon, she will have lived a full life that she can be proud of. Her fears? That she won’t have lived. That her illness will have been her whole life. That she lived to die.

I tell you, I admire this girl so much! It is hard not to think about your illness all the time: how it affects you, how its changed your life, what you don’t have compared to other people. And I don’t have a life expectancy date hanging over my head! Sure, I’ll always have this illness, and there’ll always be issues to deal with, but death is not a guaranteed part of the package. Not any more than any other person in the world.

Check out this girl.

Whether you have a chronic illness or not, her take on life is so refreshing and I feel like it gives me a kick in the pants to try a new philosophy. This is not about being fake and pretending nothing is wrong. That is never helpful, or useful. Something is wrong; lay that on the table to begin with. But life goes on. This is about finding a way to live around your illness, and still living a fulfilling life.

It will always be something of a struggle to push past illness to life. But it can be done, at least some of the time. So let’s give that a go!

Find a way to glow


For an extended version of Claire’s interview video, check out Cystic Fibrosis taught me there’s no “normal life”

Accidents happen: Part Two

Did I say “accidents happen” the other day??

What was I thinking?!

It’s like saying its q___t at work; never say the Q word!! It invites chaos and busyness and problem scripts one after another. But I said accidents happen, and so they did! Fate heard me, even though I don’t really believe in fate…oops, is that another invitation to the world to punish me?? Well punish is a bit dramatic, but you know what I mean.

So I’ve been recovering from accidents and errors ever since I wrote about accidents!! It wasn’t enough that I had my first ever minor car accident last Friday. On Wednesday, I had to go and fall down the stairs!! Like a really idiot!

I think it was sleep stupor, but to be honest I don’t really know. It was morning so sleep stupor could cover it; not much of a morning person, me. I took one step down leading with my right foot, another step down now with my left foot, another with my right and then I just slipped off the far edge of the next step with my left foot and I was gone. Our stairs go halfway straight down, turn 180 degrees then the other halfway straight down. Pretty standard. I slipped on almost the last stair before the turn. It might have to do with the stairs being shaped as wedges for the turn and I hit the tiny point of the wedge. I don’t really know how but somehow my left heel hit close to the edge of the stair and just slipped right out from under me and slipped over stair after stair after stair with no grip on any of them. My left leg was a useless slippery pointy thing sticking out in front of me causing nothing but trouble!!!


Brain kicking into overdrive trying to figure out what to do, hoping to hit the wall at the bottom of the first half of the steps, grabbing the railing by instinct rather than thought, left leg useless sticking straight out front and can’t get a foot hold anywhere, getting half a grip on one stair after another but slipping over each and every one, poor right leg tucked underneath getting banged and scraped stair after stair after stair!!


Luckily, and there is always an aspect of luck with me somehow, I was trailing my hand down the banister and managed to grab it! And even though my grasp slipped down the banister, it got caught on the post halfway down at the corner and I managed somehow to haul myself to a stop. I’ve seriously wrenched my neck and back and arm because of stopping myself but at least I didn’t go head over heels or something worse. And at least my hand was in contact with the banister when I fell; usually I don’t hold on at all! So it could have been much worse. Apparently its a workplace OH&S recommendation to have 3 points of contact with stairs at all times: 2 feet and 1 hand, or 1 foot and 2 hands if you are that person who just has to push the envelope! So maybe I need to put up some OH&S posters in my stairwell!

Panic as several steps went by and I missed the wall at the end, turning instead to start going down the next flight! Finally gripping the railing at the post as I slid to it and holding on for grim death!! Or is it life? Either way, I managed to stop on that poor banged up left hip with my useless left leg still sticking out in front, and the even more useless right leg underneath and my arm twisted backwards at some weird angle. So by the time my hand found a hold on the midway post, I was through the corner and heading down the next straight with my right leg tucked well under me getting cheese grated on each and every step where the carpet is bare and the strings are coming through. Basically I got a combination of carpet burn and grating right down my shin and a good few bumps on my left hip, which is swelling up nicely. I was feeling pretty shabby!!

So I was pretty stoked to have come to a stop, even if it was at the cost of the whole left side of my torso and arm. But how to get up?? I’m not a little thing, as most of you probably know. And unable to engage to use of either leg and one arm and side made getting up some kind of origami exercise! I actually can’t tell you how I got up, but there were a couple of bad moments where I started to slide again. But here I am to tell the tale!

So I grabbed on for dear life and managed to stop my fall. There was a moment of real horror thinking that the post might let go; I definitely felt it give. But when I went back afterwards it was as solid as ever. But as it turns out 120kg dangling by one arm is not only a threat to the wooden stair railing but to the muscles and soft tissue behind my shoulder blade. OUCH! Before too long I couldn’t turn my head to the left more than 20 degrees, behind my shoulder blade was singing and I was rapidly becoming frozen stiff. So a trip to the physio to get ironed out.

To look at you can’t even tell I’ve had an accident. Well not until I covered the grazes along my shin with white dressings that is, they kind of stand out on my tan! Not intentional but there you go. It saves me feeling like an attention seeker telling people about my accident; the bandages seek your attention on my behalf!! Is that the same thing?

Its amazing the pain and irritation such superficial scrapes create. Bed sheets, leggings, any clothing just rubs so I headed down to the pharmacy for some dressings so I can at least be a bit more comfortable. Now at least the stinging doesn’t keep getting set off again. But stretching the skin by moving it any way including walking is still aggravating. So here we are, another accident. What to make of this one? I really don’t know what went wrong so that I can avoid it again. Just one of those things? Or I should take more care?

So that was my fall. I thought that was enough, how about you?

But no. I get to work and start my usual Thursday; you know, all the packs and stuff that I wrote about recently. Then my boss brings one of the packs to me and says it has been brought back to the pharmacy over an error! That shoots straight through the heart. Especially right on the heels of having experienced a dispensing error and making (possibly) a big deal about it. As it turns out I hadn’t seen that there were 2 loratadine (you know, Claratyne the anti-histamine) tablets instead of one in Tuesday morning. It’s a robot error, but my job is to pick up that type of error, and I didn’t.

I could justify my omission by saying that its not that serious an error; in all likeliness there would be no side effects as loratadine generally has no more side effects than placebo (sugar pill). But the point is that I missed the error.

I could justify it by saying that the patient hadn’t taken it yet so it wasn’t so bad.

I could also justify the error with the conversations I’ve regularly had with other pharmacists checking packs discussing how extra tablets in packs is the hardest error to pick up, compared to other errors: broken tablets, missing tablets, wrong tablets. But I still missed the error. Not good. But it has made me further reconsider my response to the dispensing error that happened to me.

But wait, there’s more!! Unfortunately.

This, I suppose, is what happens when you only work twice a week. Short of them texting you about issues on your days off (it happens!) they save them up for next time you come in!

So, it seems that I dispensed a patient’s 500mg Epilim (valproate) correctly, then attached the labels to 200mg tablets. THIS is a problem. This is a big problem. I don’t know why the patient was taking Epilim but irrespective, taking this error over weeks to months WOULD have resulted in a relapse had the patient taken it: a relapse of epilepsy resulting in seizures, a relapse of bipolar resulting in depression, mania or suicide or worse. As someone who takes Epilim and dreads the probably inevitable day that I relapse, I can totally empathise with the patient in this scenario, as well as my position as pharmacist!!

I could justify this error by…nope, nothing!! I should have scanned the medication against the dispensing; this would have shown the error. I should have compared the original script to the box of tablets to reconcile the strength; this would have shown the error. I could have reviewed the history, but that’s an extra step. All I needed to do was the 2 steps mentioned; that would’ve prevented the error. Luckily the patient identified the error, brought the medication back and no harm, no foul.

Sound familiar?? My high horse is sinking through quicksand and I’m about to go down with it, unless I jump off and acknowledge that I just made an error as significant as that other pharmacist, and how do I want to be treated over this? What lessons do I need to learn? How would I feel about being reported to the pharmacy board? My boss knows, so that aspect can’t get worse, but he was very good about it actually.

Can I console myself with the errors that I did pick up today? 5 missing doses of magnesium in one pack, 2 missing dose of metformin (for diabetes) in another, a broken Panadol tablet making an underdose, a broken clonazepam tablet (for seizures or spasms) underdose, double the Efexor (antidepressant) dose in one slot, a random thyroxine (for underactive thyroid) tablet found in a pack where the patient doesn’t take that medication, and more. Does it make up for letting a more severe error pass through to the keeper? In short, no.

But it does make you think. Here I am, on a squared playing field, accepting that human error exists but there are systems to obey to minimise it, and ignoring the systems is just not on!