Apparently this is my M.O. Title an article with one word then expand on the word using 500 other words. Whatever, I’m comfortable with that. (See what I did there?)

Anyway, as pharmacists, we are in the business of providing comfort. We have to do so within our own comfort zones. It’s all very “Inception-esque.” How to help our patients to the best of our ability while being comfortable in the act and with the results. It’s a balancing act, a thin line, a dance with heavy consequences if we have a misstep.

Recently, my comfort zone has been stretched with our new found ability to prescribe. Before the new regulations, I always took solace in the following sentence: “let me call your doctor to double check this.” That sentence holds comfort. Call the doctor, have her tell you everything is fine or she’d rather change to drug X. Then document all over town and everything is good. I’ve helped the patient and provided care, all very much within my comfort zone.  Now, we have many other ways that situations can be resolved. We can adapt a prescription. We can substitute one drug for another. We can prescribe for a situation where we would normally have to refer (hello, hemorrhoids).  So, we are now faced with a decision. Do we refer? Do we call the doctor? Do we offer one of these new services? If we are all being honest, we would all love to stay in our previous comfort zone. Call the doctor, refer, whatever. Problem solved, patient happy, move on. However, this would not allow for progress in our profession, nor is it in the best interest of the patient.  So, we expand our comfort zone.

The first time I offered one of these new services, I was extremely nervous. I broke out in a cold sweat, my hands were shaking and it took me 45 minutes to assess my patient and decide that yes, it was appropriate to substitute Fucidin H for Hyderm and Fucidin creams to allow the prescription to be covered by MSI. I was decidedly not comfortable. Like, lost sleep that night, called the patient for the next three days to make sure she was ok kind of not comfortable.

The patient was fine. Her wound healed up nicely. She was thrilled that I was involved in her care and able to get her prescription covered without having to wait to hear back from her notoriously hard to contact doctor. Everything was A-OK.

Since that first shaky experience outside my comfort zone, I’ve had lots of experiences with prescribing and I find myself shaking and sweating less each time. This is a classic sign of an expanding comfort zone.

The moral of the story? Dive in, my friends. Dive in. It will suck the first time. It will be hard. You may not be able to eat your lunch due to nausea. But you will do it. You will provide the patient with comfort even though you distinctly lack comfort at the time. Then, you will look back at the experience and realize it didn’t suck as much as you thought. The patient is happy and healthy and you lived to tell the tale. What you’re left with is a new definition of personal and professional comfort and a happy patient. What’s wrong with that? Absolutely nothing.

Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author(s) and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of any agency, employer or affiliation.