I consider myself a lucky man. I have a good career, a supportive family and all of my needs (along with some wants).

I attended a funeral service this week in support of a friend who lost someone very close to her. It made me realize just how lucky I’ve been; I have never had to go through the tragic loss of someone so near and dear to my heart. Yes, there have been people I’ve known and respected who have passed that have left a hollow feeling. Acquaintances, people I’ve met through my career, and mentors have been taken before their time. All of these experiences have left me searching for solace. Before a life can be celebrated, there is a profound sense of loss among family and friends.

A dear friend has helped to put the experience into perspective:

Here are some things you should think about:  It can take people years to get over a profound loss. I am only now, 2 years later, just getting back to the old me (prior to the loss of a close friend). If a person hasn’t experienced that type of grief, it can be hard for someone who HAS experienced it not to feel bitterness towards them.Fortunately, after you get through all that, you are able to look back at the life and smile. I can now talk about her without crying and can recount the hilarious tales of our adventures together without breaking down. It comes as a huge relief but it took years and lots of therapy to get there. Basically, the death of someone really close to you truly messes you up for a long, long time. The grieving process is necessary but at times it can feel like it’s crushing you. They don’t teach us about this in school.

As pharmacists, we build relationships with people and their families. We stand beside them through diagnoses, hospital admissions, surgeries, lengthening medication lists and the associated emotional roller-coasters. When the inevitable happens, you may find out through an obituary, but more often than not, a family member builds up enough courage to bring a plastic bag full of medications that they won’t be needing anymore. Suffice it to say the interaction is brief and as they walk away, it can be accompanied by a stunned silence in the dispensary for a moment or two. Even if the news is somewhat expected, the mood changes instantly.

Perhaps a card, or a bouquet follows. In the subsequent interactions, there may be a change in their demeanor, or new prescriptions to fill. We may only be a small part of their lives, but an important support during a difficult time.

Circling back to the comments above, I would have to agree that school does not really address the subject of death. Granted it wouldn’t be easy to do unless units or lectures were introduced addressing therapeutic considerations at end-of-life or in palliative care programs. It wasn’t until I had been brought in to consult at my first nursing home before I really understood Do-Not-Resuscitate orders and medicating for comfort. I do try to apply that experience when interacting with patients in their homes as they prepare for what lies ahead.

Knowledge may be power, and as pharmacists, we’re trusted because of our knowledge. When folks are at their most vulnerable, they may lean on that trust to listen, to share, and to help make sense of an emotional crisis that isn’t supposed to make sense. Everyone grieves differently, and you don’t have to know how to help or what to say. If you want to help, you will.

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.