Regular readers of this blog have noticed a pronounced swing towards travel and personal interest pieces. The 10-part Odyssey was borne out of a desire to relive my recent trip to the US last August whilst learning and sharing various anecdotes along the way. This was never intended to be a permanent shift.
This is not a travel blog, but rather a pharmacist who happens to be writing about travel.
Let me explain…
It has been over a year now since my pharmacy career was interrupted. Using a simple sports team analogy, there was a change in strategy. I was summarily substituted from my role and took my place on the sidelines.
When I wrote Changes & Choices, it was about embracing the opportunity to evolve and grow in unexpected ways. It was about feeling those nerves when attempting a new task or planning a large project. It was about surrounding myself with supporting voices that cheered and challenged, lifted the spirits and tempered the expectations. It is a huge relief to have mentors for strength and guidance through the emotional whirlwind. They continue to keep me hungry and excited for what’s next.
Part of this sabbatical was to take a long, hard look at my track record to date; as an employee for sure, but also as a father, son, brother, spouse, and friend. How has my career trajectory impacted those around me, and my own sense of self? How have I adapted through the years, mentally and physically? How did I foster leadership with my teams, and how did I ask for support from my leaders when I was struggling?
This trip was emblematic of that reflection. Taking two plus weeks off in the middle of August was not something I had ever done before, as a relief pharmacist, as a manager or in any of my corporate roles. When there was vacation, often it came with frequent email and text check-ins to arrange coverage and respond to emergencies. This time the focus was on my parents, my fiancée, and enjoying every adventure along the way. The people we met, the towns we explored, the places where we ate, and all the miles in between were healing in so many ways. Those memories are forever, and brought out the best in me.
Truth be told, this blog was borne out of a similar reflection 12 years earlier (I repeat….12 YEARS). At that time, I made the decision to take a step back from a middle management pharmacy role and return to the front lines. The practice of prescribing was new for the profession and many pharmacists were grappling with the ethical dilemma of both prescribing and dispensing medication. Seeing your name on a prescription vial really was a vital step to owning the process. With turf battles being waged with other professional associations and exacting reimbursement criteria, confusion reigned for a time. On this front, I had a conservative approach; focusing on the diagnostic assessment as opposed to the resulting prescription felt like a solid starting point. The valid counter to this was to take the narrow expansion of scope and identify patients who would benefit. For example, we could now prescribe for cold sores, so cruising the OTC aisle for customers asking for Abreva or Lipactin would provide an opportunity for a consult and to educate the public at the same time. Stomach and sleep remedies were also popular. Unfortunately, the general assessment itself was not subject to funding, but was instead tied to specific prescribing activities.
The issue was quite simple: the operational side of me was aware of the possibilities that would come with dogged execution of our newfound abilities, but the burgeoning clinician in me wasn’t ready to take the plunge. I needed to be confident in my own practice before coaching others to navigate the change. It was tough to step down the ladder, but it was necessary and allowed me to be more effective when I received the chance again.
So here I am on replay, but this time I have a better idea of my strengths and weaknesses. I have explored different work environments and practice settings, if only to see if I can picture myself thriving in different roles. I have become more involved in advocacy and regulatory committee work, so It’s not a question of if…it’s when! The pharmacy profession continues to be a huge part of who I am, and want nothing more than to continue my contributions.
Therefore this pharmacy blog shall continue…and I can’t wait for that next piece of inspiration.
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.
We woke up the morning of Aug 18 to some down-home Holiday Inn, egg-in-a-carton, conveyor-belt-toaster, do-it-yourself-waffle, gourmet breakfast spread. Ready to hit the road once again, we jumped back on the I-90 for a three hour eastward stretch.
We had been fortunate with the driving weather; other than encountering torrential rains along the Lake Erie stretch, the roads were dry and visibility was excellent. This day was a bit grey, but the route itself was relatively uneventful:
I-90 North for about 2-3 minutes towards Williamsville.
Continue to the east on I-90 for 203 miles (327 km), passing outside such hockey hotbeds as Rochester to our north, Syracuse to our south, and the smaller town of Utica, NY. Continue to Herkimer / Mohawk, and exit on NY-28.
Travel due south for 40 minutes through Dennison Corners, South Columbia, along the shores of Canadarago Lake, the community of Schuyler Lake, Cattown (two ‘T’s), Fly Creek, Index (yes…the hamlet of Index), and finally reaching our destination in Hartwick Seminary.
I have just listed a bunch of town names that I find amusing for one reason or another. Since I’ve long broken my ‘unnecessary tangents’ rule, here are some random thoughts I had whilst driving through this part of the country:
When mapping out the route, I was recognizing the names of cities along the way without ever having been there. I trace it back to my high school days in Halifax, NS in the early 1990’s. At that time, the city had a professional minor league hockey team called the Halifax Citadels, the Quebec Nordique’s affiliate from 1988-1993. I was a hockey and baseball nut then, trying my hand as a skating-challenged goaltender in various recreational leagues during the winter, and avoiding ground balls to the face playing third base during the summer. Two of the Citadels’ opponents were the Rochester Americans (or Amerks), the affiliate of the Buffalo Sabres, and the Utica Devils, the New Jersey Devils affiliate from 1987-1993. As for Syracuse, the Chiefs / SkyChiefs were the AAA affiliate of my beloved Toronto Blue Jays until as recently as 2018.
The village of Mohawk was a stopping place for General George Washington during tours of the region in 1783. The Valley Tavern on Main St, known in Washington’s time as the Shoemaker Tavern, burned down in 1973. I personally found Mohawk to be somewhat bleak and dilapidated, a vestige of once-vibrant rural towns that dotted our journey.
Canadarago Lake, although not named after my home country, does seem rooted in the same Huron-Iroquois word for village or settlement. It means ‘the lake that lies alongside the village’.
Schuyler Lake is a community name but there is no matching body of water on the map. As it turns out, Canadarago Lake was historically known as Schuyler Lake. Isn’t history fun…and weird?
You are probably wondering why our destination was Hartwick Seminary. In fact, even I didn’t know that was our destination until I was researching for this post; our hotel was the ‘Holiday Inn Cooperstown’, but the civic address was in a hamlet about 8 km south.
Cooperstown is a village within the town of Otsego, a Mohawk or Oneida word meaning ‘place of the rock’. It refers to Council Rock, a prominent rock partially submerged off the shore of Lake Otsego. It is home to around 1800 people and for a number of years, was famously known as the birthplace of baseball. If you recall the term ‘sister city’ from an earlier post, Cooperstown is twinned with Windsor, Nova Scotia, due to the latter’s claims of being the birthplace of hockey. The village attracts 260,000 tourists each year to the Baseball Hall of Fame, featured downtown on Main St. Founded by William Cooper in 1786, the village of Otsego was renamed in 1812 after he became a county judge and state congressman.
Notable year-round or summer residents of Cooperstown include:
James Fenimore Cooper (left) – William’s son was an accomplished author, writing historical fiction during the frontier period. His masterpiece is the romantic novel, The Last of the Mohicans.
Samuel F.B. Morse – A friend of James, he was a portrait painter before helping invent a single-wire telegraph and co-developing Morse code.
Erastus Flavel Beadle – Pioneer of pulp fiction publishing and creator of the dime novel (included mainly because of the awesome name 🙂 ).
You generally approach the town from the south. During peak times of year when parking is at a premium, it is recommended that you park on the hill above and take the Cooperstown Trolley about 2 km. We decided to chance it and managed to find a meter close to town hall. As you can imagine, baseball is everywhere; all gifts shops and restaurants have baseball-themed items adorned on walls and displays. In the photo below left, we see yet another obstacle smack in the middle of an intersection blocking our view of Mickey’s Place, a clothing store named after Mickey Mantle, a Yankee Hall of Famer. Below right, residing in the old Augur’s Books location, is the Cooperstown Beverage Exchange and Tasting bar. We had a couple of drams of their whiskey lineup, with the Cooperstown Select Straight Bourbon Whiskey Single Barrel being the favourite. Naturally, they too have jumped on the baseball train, with a series of exclusive decanters!
We had a late breakfast so it wasn’t until early afternoon when we decided to have an appetizer snack somewhere. I shall not name the establishment but will say that it was off a side street not too far from the main drag. We ordered nachos, and we all had an expectation of nachos. Preferably these nachos would have a combo of cheese, veggies, and protein baked and served with sour cream and salsa. I think they managed to get the salsa right; we received a plate of corn chips with a warmish, cheese-like sauce poured over the top. There may have been flecks of jalapeno in the sauce, but he disappointment was palpable. It tasted okay but certainly not worth the money. To add insult to injury, the bottled beers were warm.
After what amounted to our lunch, we made our way to the hallowed Hall of Fame:
Forgive me as I nerd out for a moment: I’ve been an avid ball fan since the late ’80’s and have always been fascinated my the stories, the players, and the statistics. I have memorized most of the individual seasonal and all-time records and can rhyme off a good share of the players enshrined in the hall. I really didn’t know what to expect, but naturally didn’t budget enough time to soak it all in. After watching the introductory film that ran in the theatre every 15 minutes, we spent a good two hours browsing, but easily could have extended the visit by at least two more. Usually, my parents and fiancée would patiently wait for me to pore over the placards and displays before moving on. Below is a very small sample of the pictures taken that day. I have at least seventy from inside and couldn’t resist shooting anything that caught my eye.
We begin with the placard that hangs to the right of the first door pictured above. It is to commemorate the first inductees. I have included ‘The First Class’ panel that sits at the far end of the actual hall that is attached to the museum. Of the class, Babe Ruth, Honus Wagner, Ty Cobb and Walter Johnson were in attendance. The missing member is Christy Mathewson, a pitcher who played until 1916 and won 373 major league games. Sadly, after serving in WW1, he passed in 1925 from tuberculosis at age 45.
Below left: An entire section devoted to the legend that was George Herman ‘Babe’ Ruth.
Below Centre: Every major league team has it’s own locker with game-used equipment from historical moments in their history. The most recent addition to the Toronto Blue Jays locker is the “AL” batting helmet worn by current star Vladimir Guerrero Jr during the 2021 All-Star Game. He homered and was the game’s MVP.
The next three shots pay homage to the “Man of Steal”, Rickey Henderson. Somewhat of a showboat, Rickey was known for speaking in the third person and tormenting pitchers both in the batter’s box and on the bases. Sadly, he passed away from pneumonia on Dec 20, five days short of his 66th birthday. He played 44 games for my beloved Jays in 1993, helping them to a second World Series title. Below is 1) artwork of Rickey early in his career (number 35, he switched to his famous 24 in 1985) with his customary head-down takeoff for second base, 2) his HoF plaque, and 3) a dedicated display of Rickey’s stolen base records. All time, his total of 1406 is 468 more than second place, and the active major league leader has a whopping 354, so his record is safe for awhile.
Finally, the plaque of one of my favourite Jays, Roy Halladay. Unfortunately, he also left us way too soon, losing his life at age 40 in a plane crash over the Gulf of Mexico.
My prize from the visit was a pair of Vladdy Guerrero Jr. rookie cards snagged from the gift-shop. There is plenty of unique swag available for my fellow baseball lovers. One can do plenty of damage to the wallet roaming around in there too long.
It was nearing suppertime, and thanks to Dr. Bob’s strong recommendation, we descended on Brewery Ommegang. Tracing it’s roots back to 1549 when King Charles V visited Brussels, the resulting celebratory parade became know as the Ommegang, loosely meaning coming together and walking about. To present day, the tradition continues in the Belgian capital.
This brewery however is not so old; established in 1997, it has grown enormously and has begun exporting its Belgian ales to almost every state, Canada, and overseas. The complex is sprawling. I have included some pictures and an accompanying birds-eye view with numbered vantage points for each. The large purple dot is the outdoor dining area off the taproom. The field out back has a disc-golf course, and during the summers, will offer camping and live concerts.
The taproom and outdoor settings were lovely. It was misty and damp on this occasion, but neither quelled our good spirits. The menu is limited but tasty. We munched on some brussel sprouts followed by the OMG burger and a side of macaroni salad. Unable to choose a brew, we opted for a flight that included a Witte, a wheat ale, Rare VOS, an amber with citrus notes, their flagship Three Philosophers, a Belgian quadrupel ale (9.7% abv!), and something called Bourbon Barrel-Aged Imperial Keep It Crunchy, a granola stout aged for 11 months (10.3%!!).
After a full day, we made our way back to the hotel to debrief on the days events and fight with the smart TV remote.
Only one more full day in the US before crossing the border to home soil. In our next installment, I recount a regrettable pharmacy experience on our way out of NY state, a crossing of Vermont to the New Hampshire border, and one of the best pasta dishes I’ve ever tasted!
See you then!
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.
And we’re living here in Allentown But the restlessness was handed down And it’s getting very hard to stay
From the iconic song written and performed by Billy Joel, this passage refers to the decline of the manufacturing sector during the 1980’s. Bethlehem Steel, the second largest steel manufacturer in the US for most of the 20th century, was falling on hard times and the future was uncertain. The mill eventually shut down for good in 1995. Although the lyrics strike a negative tone, it still spoke to the resilience of Allentown; unemployed steel-workers toughing it out and refusing to quit making a life there.
We were only there for an evening, but we were also restless to reach out final destination. It was also getting hard to stay due to the incessant screaming.
Say that again?
Yes, from the moment we arrived at our Holiday Inn parking lot, we could hear periodic screams and shrieks from across the road. Little did I realize when booking these accommodations, that we wouldn’t be in a sleepy part of town off the interstate, but rather on the border of one of the largest theme parks we have ever seen: 200 acres of Dorney Park and Wildwater Kingdom. Opened in 1884, this place is a monster, and the screaming was coming from one of the 8 roller coasters in the park. In fact, when it opened in May 2001, it was touted as the largest inverted roller coaster in the northeastern United States. One where you stand and are suspended below the rails, this thrill-ride will take you 14 storeys into to air, invert you 4 separate times and reach speeds of 58 mph (ahem…93 km/h). For those you want the thrill of a lifetime, or simply enjoy vomiting their oversized park-bought hotdogs, the Talon: Grip of Fear will not disappoint!
Just to get an idea of where we were situated, the image below from google maps shows our hotel in the lower right in the red circle. The place where they skin the cats is ringed in yellow. Did I mention this place is LARGE?!
At any rate, we discovered that our rooms were not yet ready so we asked for a recommendation for lunch. Seeing how we wound up in tourist-central, I reckon the hotel hosts receive this question almost as much as requests for extra towels. Without missing a beat, he directed us a few short minutes up the road to Carrabba’s Italian Grill. This is a restaurant chain we were not familiar. I can’t recall much other than thinking that it was our second day in a row having Italian, so I opted for a dish called the Pollo Rosa Maria, a chicken breast stuffed with Fontina cheese and prosciutto. The menu picture was amazing. The taste? It would rank it slightly above average, (3 out of 5 sundried tomatoes) with good preparation, appealing presentation but more bland than expected.
Before heading back at the hotel, I decided to refresh my ibuprofen stocks, so we found a pharmacy in a Weis Market that was two buildings away. With my keen sense of navigation, I managed to turn the commute into an unintentional 15 minute tour of Cedar Creek Park. Since I’m having entirely too much fun doodling on Google maps, here’s another image for reference:
Here’s the thing: Hamilton Blvd is a strange drive for non-locals. It is a main thoroughfare, and is a standard two-lane highway with a concrete divider. When we exited our hotel, we could only turn right and would have to switchback by Dorneyville Dental on the bottom left. From that point, Hamilton splits into two one-way stretches that envelop 5 or 6 city blocks. For my pharmacist readers, it’s like a nodule formed in the middle of the highway and separated the two sides of the street to the point you could fit a small community inside. After confidently turning left past the Wendy’s, we drove past the top of your screen before everything looked completely wrong and we started looking for the way back around.
Ibuprofen in hand we trekked back to the hotel for a bit of downtime. My headache abated over the next hour and we were off again, this time to explore a local winery or brewery for a late afternoon flight before dinner. Firing up the nav system in Dad’s Genesis, we found Vynecrest Winery in nearby Brenigsville, about 15 minutes away.
We arrived at approximately 5:07pm. I remember thinking the parking lot was rather empty this time of day. The flag outside read open to we headed into the shop. After a few beats a woman appeared to say that they closed at 5 and had not removed the open sign from outside and neglected to lock the door.
“You can try Clover Hill up the road. They close at 5:30pm”
Off we go, arriving at Clover Hill at 5:17pm.
“I’m sorry. We’ve already had last call and are no longer offering tastings. Feel free to peruse the shop.”
We were getting restless and annoyed. The next option was Rising River Brewing, located in the borough of Macungie, which took us through Trexlertown and East Texas (yes, it is a suburb of Allentown). A couple quick things:
Macungie is derived from “Maguntsche”, a Lenape word, meaning either “bear swamp” or “feeding place of the bears”. Sounds like a lovely place to settle and raise a family.
The community of East Texas is named after the state of course, but the ‘East’ prefix is to distinguish it from another Texas in Pennsylvania. It is also the global headquarters for Day-Timer, the company that brings you all kinds of paper-based calendars and weekly organizers. To wit, I will visit Staples every November to buy my Day-Timer as preparation for the following year.
Rising River is nestled in a residential area. When we arrived, it looked packed. There were two parking lots, a large main building, and a massive deck in the back. It appeared there were lawn games, a foot bridge and gazebo further down on the property. There were lineups to be seated outside. We sauntered into the main building to ask the barkeep if there were restaurant services. She said that wine and mixed drinks were available in the main building, which reminded me of a legion hall, and draught beer on tap was out on the patio. A food truck was conveniently parked alongside the deck serving a massive sprawl of people looking for fish, chips and hotdogs. A bit disappointed but looking to make the most of the situation, we sat close to the tiki bar outside and were ignored by the servers for about a half-hour. We finally approached the bar and were told to get in line on the other side. Folks had drink tickets, so we were confused; did we miss a sign or crash a private event? Then a voice came over the PA system and everything made sense: this was Wednesday night Bingo at the Rising River Brewery and seemingly ALL of Macungie were armed with dabbers and were fueling up prior to the first round.
We managed to order beers from a gentleman who looked entirely overwhelmed, but in good spirits. We took off shortly after a lady came around to display what an ‘X’ looks like on a bingo card, quietly exiting between shouts of “B13”. We headed back the hotel with a bottle of blackberry brandy to munch on leftover cheese and crackers from our grocery trip a couple days earlier and to fight with apps on the smartTV.
Below left: Vynecrest Winery shop before they told us they were closed. Bottom right: Rising River, featuring everything you need to get through a weeknight in Macungie 🙂
We arose on Thursday morning, Aug 15. Another fine weather day for our drive west through the state. After a quick bagel, we proceeded to turn right so we could turn left. Stupid Hamilton Blvd.
Allentown (PA) –> Donegal (PA)
Since I have largely ignored my own advice on straying off on unnecessary tangents, the route summary will be brief, as it was largely a straight line for about three-and-a-half hours through the Appalachian Mountains.
Leave hotel, jump on the I-78 due west at Wescoville.
At Middlesex, merge onto I-76, the Pennsylvania Turnpike.
Drive through a series of Appalachian mountains. These tunnels are two lanes each way and span 2-3km. If you have semi-trailer trucks around you, it certainly adds to the claustrophobia:
Kittatinny Mountain Tunnel (fun fact: the western portal is featured on the first postcard during the opening sequence of National Lampoon’s Vacation)
Tuscarora Mountain Tunnel
Allegheny Mountain Tunnel
Continue straight to Donegal, a borough in Westmoreland County roughly 80 clicks southeast from downtown Pittsburgh.
Reaching our destination at the customary mid-afternoon tick of the clock, we were greeted in the hotel lobby by some furry friends:
I do not come from a family of hunters. The only taxidermy I tend to see are in museum exhibits. The rustic log cabin feel of this place was rather fascinating. Not wanting to wade into Pennsylvania politics, I was getting the feeling that 2nd amendment rights are a hot-button issue in this part of the state, but more on that later.
Join us next time, when in Part 5 we spend the first of our two days touring the Donegal township and surrounding areas, shopping in the general store, sampling some local spirits and preparing ourselves for Friday’s visit to Fallingwater!
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.
When we last left our intrepid adventurers, they had just arrived in the Catskill Mountains and checked in to their accommodations at Hotel Vienna, a 2-storey chalet with exposed beams and cabin feel. At the foot of Windham Mountain, there is the requisite ski resort and a local golf course. The video in the above link has some aerial shots that are quite lovely.
As it turns out, Windham is a very common name in these parts. Not to be confused with Windham, NH, or Windham, Connecticut, or Wyndham Resort and Hotels (spelled with a ‘y’), the town of Windham, NY is located in Greene County, on the northern boundary of the Catskills Mountain range. It is a town of about 1,700 people but is a popular vacation spot for New Yorkers and other areas in the northeast. Fun Fact: Scott Adams*, the creator of the Dilbert cartoon series, grew up in Windham and was valedictorian of his high school.
*I should note that although I am a huge Dilbert fan and have referred to his comic strips in previous work presentations, I am not a Scott Adams fan for his views and the controversy he generates.
Like anyone who has traveled the Cabot Trail in Nova Scotia, we are spoiled by fairly frequent look-off points to grab pictures and feel infinitesimally small as we gaze across wide valley expanses between the mountains. The route to Windham certainly teased those views, but with very few parking opportunities and overgrown look-off points, my pictures from the car are woefully underwhelming and are not worthy to be shared. Further along, you can find the Five-State Lookout but you will need clear skies and a sense of what you are viewing; there are no directions or reference guides available, only a parking lot and the stunning horizon in the distance.
Like a nesting doll, the images below depict the Windham town limits within Greene County, and the county within New York state. The famous Hudson river is the bluish boundary to the right.
After that preamble, it shouldn’t surprise you that Windham was in fact, NOT our actual destination. That honour would go to a little hamlet called Round Top, within the neighbouring town of Cairo (pronounced ‘Care-oh’ because America dares to be different on occasion).
My mother had picked this location to visit a university friend she had met almost 50 years ago in Laval, QC. My parents had kept in touch with this gentleman over the years via email (and before that, the archaic rotary phone, and before that, presumably telegraph or carrier pigeons). He was gracious enough to welcome us into their home below the peak of Blackhead Mountain, where the roads are quiet but full of wildlife; there are many opportunities to encounter deer or bears, especially as streetlamps are minimal and the roadways are narrow.
My parents has last visited several decades prior. At that time, their friends had lived in a large house further upstate. On the windy road leading to the house, we weren’t sure what to expect. We were met with rock walls on either side, and the entrance to the property has an incredible stone bridge over a brook that babbles or rushes depending on the rains.
The house was beautiful. A 2-storey farmhouse style home with a full length porch across the front, was surrounded by curved stone walls to form terraces. There was only one problem. The master of the house was not there as he had left to pick up dinner. We were told the front door was unlocked and to make ourselves at home. I should emphasize that we had not been there before, so little voices cautioned us that there was a slight chance we were unknowingly breaking in unannounced to a stranger’s abode.
Inside there was plenty of artwork and interesting conversation pieces on the mantle and window ledges. I had to include a couple of pictures: one of the monkey lamps in the living room and a little parrot friend that welcomed the four of us.
When our host arrived, we were treated to some of the best chicken parmigiana we’ve ever tasted. There was a version of Melanzane (eggplant) alla Parmigiana that was just as tasty. We all had seconds and there were tons left over. They also treated us to a fine bottle of California red to wash it down. You may ask where a fine Italian meal is procured in ‘Care-O’. I shall not leave you in suspense: it was from Two Brothers Pizza off of country Route 84.
After looking through old pictures and reminiscing about what amounted to mischief in the 70s (wading around in the fountain at the newly opened MicMac Mall anyone?), we bid our adieus and trundled back to the hotel to fight with the apps on the SmartTV.
The morning of Wednesday, Aug 14, was now upon us. We ducked into the continental breakfast offered in the common room and piled back into the car around 9:30 for more highway hijinks.
Windham (NY) –> Allentown (PA)
This was a much shorter drive than the previous legs, but probably one of the most stressful. I have never seen more trucks on a stretch of highway in my life. Our route on this day was as follows:
Leaving Windham, we traveled East on NY-23 back to Cairo, then veered south on NY-32.
After about 40 minutes, we reached Saugerties and headed due south on I-87 to certain doom.
I should probably explain. As you can see from the map above, the I-87 runs straight along the Hudson across the New Jersey line, when it merges to I-287 around Suffern, NY. This route continues further south and at the nearest point, comes within 20km of Newark, and about 30km from Manhattan. There happens to be a wee bit of commerce in this area and as you could imagine, rigs of every shape, size, colour, with trailers hauling logs, building materials, animals, mini-homes, heavy equipment, and tankers, were all wanting to race to their respective destinations. Sprinkle in some traffic snarls that slowed their progress, and you have all the ingredients of the next screenplay in the Mad Max film series.
Not realizing we were bisecting New Jersey state to this extent, we passed some fun city names along the way: Mahwah, Crystal Lake (for slasher horror fans who grew up with the Friday the 13th movie franchise), Pompton Lakes, Riverdale (possible hometown of Archie and friends?), Parsippany, and Basking Ridge, which sounds like the name of a relaxing day spa. We didn’t actually see much from the highway as most of it was spent surrounded by high-sided 53-foot trailers swerving between four lanes. We continued to the fun-to-say Pluckemin, NJ, and jumped onto the I-78 due west.
After about 25 minutes, we made a semi-circle around the borough of Alpha, NJ to reach the Pennsylvania border. Our destination was getting close!
As we approached Allentown, we momentarily suffered an existential crisis when we passed the following road-sign:
Turn right to Bethlehem or left to Hellertown? I swear I am not making this up.
Pulling off the highway around 2pm we proceeded to the Holiday Inn on Hamilton Rd in Dorneyville, which is not a ville at all, but described as a ‘census-designated place’ in Lehigh County. With our room not quite ready, we set out to find some lunch and check our surroundings.
Please join me for our next installment when we embark on a winery hunt that eventually landed us in East Texas, a pharmacy visit to snoop pain relievers, and a lovely drive around (and through!) the Allegheny Mountains.
Until next time…
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.
For those uninitiated in musical theatre, as I was 20 short months ago, Fyedka is a character in The Fiddler on the Roof, a production originally done on Broadway in 1964. The setting is the fictional shtetl of Anatevka, a small Jewish settlement in eastern Europe under Russian occupation. I was cast to play a young, russian, Christian soldier who falls in love with one of the daughters of a poor milkman named Tevye.
I chose to write about this experience because it’s intensely personal to me, but also because it made me realize a few things about myself and how I form emotional connections with places, things and, most of all, people.
I was never interested in musical theatre. In my pre-teen years, I may have attended one or two shows but they don’t evoke any strong memory; I couldn’t even tell you today what they were. So imagine hitting 40 and being invited to take part in something (mostly because of your kids), and finding yourself immersed in a brand new world of discovery.
My love of singing dates back to preschool, when ordering cassettes from Columbia House mailouts became the rage. I still remember fondly knowing every word to Class of ’57 from the Very Best of the Statlers and proving it to family and friends by sidling up to the boombox in the living room. Acting had never been considered, and no research was ever undertaken to see what was involved. Being part of the ensemble cast for a recent production of Oliver! was such a departure from the life which I had always identified. I was involved in a new process, meeting people who didn’t care about my occupation or my background, but who wanted to come together to tell a story. Even though many of these musicals have been around for decades, I honestly didn’t know the story nor was I familiar with the songs. I had to learn them in real time through the eyes of those cast in the main roles, and from the musicians in the pit band. It was magical how those characters came to life.
I went into the shows with a philosophy that derived from my wonderment towards the talented actors and actresses that supported me: someone in every crowd was brought along with only a casual interest in the show or maybe didn’t know anything about it before arriving at the theatre. If I do my job, if I make the role believable, there is a chance they will leave with my image as the character they remember every time they recount their experience.
Even though it’s not a straight parallel, sometimes we forget that as healthcare professionals, we are just as radical a departure from the general public. The impressions we make when someone ventures into our world have the ability to comfort, inspire, educate, and help improve their quality of life. Sometimes we take for granted that it’s old hat to us, but a brand new experience for others.
I remember my first real experience at a pharmacy. I was 16, and had just come out of a minor surgical procedure with a prescription for Tylenol #3’s. At that point, the anaesthetic was beginning to wear off, and I had never experienced a similar pain before. On this day, did I care that the pills may be constipating? Was I thinking about a weaning schedule after three days or so? Did it matter to me whether it was covered by my parents’ drug plan? All rhetoric aside, it shouldn’t surprise us that when someone avails of our services, they may not be in the mindset to appreciate all the steps involved in filling an order, or consenting to a monitoring plan. Everyone is different, and similar to an actor finding just the right ad-lib when the unexpected happens, we resort to our professional training to determine the best approach to that patient. Perhaps a supportive word, and a quick rundown on the essentials are all that matters today. Would a follow-up phone call, after someone has had the chance to process a new diagnosis, allow for a more productive conversation?
Most of all, the one thing I gleaned from this experience is that you truly can’t fake genuine. I know that sounds weird when the whole point of acting is to play a fictional character and tell a story, but the show is borne from a genuine place. It’s not simply reciting the words on a page or simulating movements that are choreographed, but rather studying the reason why those words need to be said. Why do they have a certain order or cadence? It’s trying to understand how the movements enhance the message and contribute to the scene. How does a gesture amplify the emotion of a song lyric? If you believe in what you do and what you say, those watching begin to trust your ability, and your message.
Whenever a patient asks for you, realize that YOU are the pharmacist they talk about with their family and friends. YOU have brought the world of pharmacy into their lives. YOU have the ability to nudge them towards better health choices and increase their quality of life.
Which role do you want to play?
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.
On a few occasions I’ve referenced my Sunday morning ritual of jumping on an elliptical machine at my local gym and distracting myself for an hour with whatever is playing on the bank of video monitors directly in front. There are newscasts, DIY style shows, music videos, and sports reports to bounce around, but on Sundays, I always seem to catch part of Joel Osteen’s sermon from Lakewood Church, in Houston, Texas. No, this is not an endorsement of him or his views, but he is a public figure and does do his best to focus on positives as far as I can tell.
On this particular day, it was one line that struck me. It spoke to the message of staying within yourself and setting goal expectations in a meaningful way:
‘Never promise the moon when you’re reaching for the clouds.’
In work and life, we set goals for ourselves regularly. New Year’s resolutions notwithstanding, we endeavour to exercise more, eat healthier, get back to reading, commit to a new hobby or learn a new skill. We reward ourselves along the way, and although everything may not work out exactly how it was imagined, the idea is to improve some aspect of performance. That brings us back to the quote. What expectation did we imagine at the outset?
If we’re using distance as a reference, expectations can range from surface-level to the moon and beyond. Surface-level expectations are ultra-conservative, highly visible, controllable, and readily attainable. A business example could be the threat of a new competitor in the market. We may want to hold the line, not make any waves, and quietly strengthen internal operations. In this case, expectations are modest and actions tend to be low-risk. Another example would be recovering from a severe knee injury. In the aftermath, range-of-motion exercises are low-impact, and gains are slow.
The further from the surface we go, the more aggressive the goals, the bolder the risks we may take. The number of variables increase exponentially and therefore, we have less practical control over the outcome. We often use the term ‘blue-sky’ when pitching ideal scenarios in meeting rooms. It’s FUN to explore all the possibilities. You often learn about the WHYs of a given project, and the strategies about which team members feel the most passionate. The sky extends quite a ways off the ground, but if all the random variables align just right, we may win a result akin to drawing the correct lottery numbers.
The clouds are low in the sky, and I like to refer to these as our stretch targets. If we reach for those, we are pushing ourselves a bit out of our comfort zones. It’s like climbing a mountain. Reaching the peak is impressive. The higher the peak, the more impressive the feat (and the view). Incidentally, many of the tallest peaks are above the mid-level cloud base of 6500 ft. When we stretch ourselves to those heights, it takes a strong foundation, a willing team, dedication, and tenacity to succeed. When you do, the feeling of accomplishment is amazing.
So when we look at the moon, reaching for the sky, or shooting for the stars, it’s not impossible, but extremely tough. There are so many variables, and putting that many jigsaw pieces together the correct way, in the right order, in the proper time frame is something very few can manage. I’ve never been much of a gambler, so admittedly I will carefully weigh risk/reward in anything I consider, usually opting to hold back. On occasions where I have the confidence to reach past the clouds, I commit to it, but stop short of promising that to others.
Knowing that I’m quite heavy with the metaphors, it’s essential to me that we bring things back to a healthcare, or better yet, a pharmacy perspective. Lets take the hot topic of the past year, medical cannabis and legalized marijuana. As pharmacists, we need to be on the cutting edge of emerging therapies that may impact patient health. Some effects are positive. There is some evidence that cannabis may increase quality of life from those suffering from chronic non-cancer pain. The negative side include clinical studies of potential interactions with other medications and adverse effects like psychosis or hyperemesis. Setting goals for education could have different levels: surface-level expectations may include reading a pamphlet, or taking a webinar. More ambitious could be developing an educational session and having it filmed, or traveling to host peer groups and providing interactive presentations. Finally, blue sky may be investing in certification or course work and become a collaborator with government stakeholders to help form public policy.
We can see the moon, and we can take aim, but progress is not defined my how many times we get there, it’s what we learn from the attempts. Summit the mountain enough times, the distance starts to add up.
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.
This post will discuss leadership, but with a bit of a twist.
I’ve been thinking a lot about what it means to be a leader, but from the perspective of a follower. One of the things that strikes me about who we consider to be great leaders, is that they are labeled as such by their loyal followers. People like Gloria Steinem, Barack Obama, Martin Luther King, and Maya Angelou inspire others to make life choices that align with shared values. You can’t be a leader unless someone chooses to follow you. A person can be in a position of leadership and not be perceived as a leader because of an inability to inspire people. History tells us that FDR was considered a great leader. He was a dominant political power who brought the US through the Great Depression and WWII, but he wasn’t MY leader. He didn’t engage ME in any meaningful way. I can admire his speeches, and his ability to bring people together. If I had been alive during the 30’s and 40’s, I believe that much of his messaging would have resonated with me.
So how would YOU describe how YOUR leaders make you feel? For me, it’s a basic emotion: excitement. Regardless of status, or position, or field, there are individuals who excite me. They challenge my thinking. They keep me in suspense about what they will do, say, or write next. They instill in me the belief that I will end up being a better version of myself if I follow, listen, and apply their messages.
I am fortunate enough to have befriended countless leaders in the pharmacy and business profession; each with their own style and passion for their families, their communities, their friends and their colleagues. Some are well-known and involved in advocacy, regulatory, and academia, others shun the spotlight. Some are positional leaders in my company, others are front-line staff on my own teams or with other operations entirely. Some are strong orators, training their peers through sharing real world experience with humour and authenticity. Others are hard-line, demanding disciplined excellence through written communication and a well-articulated, crystal clear vision.
This year, I decided to try something different at Christmas by purchasing copies of a popular leadership book for members of my management team. A colleague picked up a copy and immediately looked at the price of the paperback = $22. Immediately I wondered if we can truly put a monetary value on nurturing leaders. In this case, it was a conscious investment to share a message with them, and the cost of this method came to $22. Will it work as intended? Will it challenge their thinking? Will it prompt a change in how they approach their daily lives? THEY will be the ones who will decide, and it will resonate differently with each of them.
In 2019, it’s all about the why. Why do I write this blog for instance? The why is simple: it all began in 2013 as a way for me to rebuild some lost confidence and share some lessons with a larger audience. I was proud of my pharmacy career to that point, but was finding doubt around every corner that I wasn’t adapting quickly enough to a rapidly changing profession. That the ideas I had been the most proud of were sending me in the opposite direction. PharmAspire was and still is, the forum I use to take negative experiences or perceptions and inspect them for silver linings. It’s also a forum to take positive experiences in the profession, and amplify them in ways I hadn’t considered before.
These past 5 years (soon to be 6!) of writing has been so valuable to my personal growth. Sharing my train of thought isn’t the difficult part; for those who know me well, I talk a lot and often feel remorse afterwards for hogging conversations. However, this is different. Seeing ideas in writing forces more discipline, and more conviction. Words on a page don’t easily change, and may be read, and re-read, and re-read again. Impressions may be made, or opinions formed, and later changed. Speechwriters for famous people have tough jobs for that reason. They need to be conscious of misinterpretation and muddled messaging. Thankfully, editor Laura makes sure that my words truly reflect what I’m trying to say.
So for 2019, I want to get back to the ‘why’ basics. I want to get excited about new prescribing authority coming into effect across the country. I want to channel the energy of the student graduates asserting their independence this spring. I want to share management and leadership tips that others have helped ingrain over the years. I want to explore the psychology of behaviour change and traversing the highs and lows.
Finally, I want to continue this journey pondering this question: What kind of PHARMacist do I ASPIRE to be?
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.
It’s approaching Christmas time again. Those of us with younger children feel an additional rush of excitement as we watch them absorb the magic of the season through elves on shelves and letters to Santa. People are busy, but it’smostly a good busy; wrapping presents, fighting with the tree, and wrestling with lights. It all seems worth it when the egg nog is poured and a light snow is dusting the lawn. We have a couple scented candles that alternate our evening mood, between a pine and a pumpkin spice scent. Most importantly, it’s a time to celebrate friends and family. As thankful as we are for those that are close to us, this year we’re missing someone.
There have been few events in my life when the world has simultaneously come to a screeching halt yet time seems to be lost. Weeks and months were a bit of a blur, and motivation was extremely difficult to find. You were a teammate first, and due to your open demeanor and unflappable style, quickly became a respected friend. I’d known you for close to 9 years, but others could attest to decades of service to the practice of pharmacy in Newfoundland. Now that I think of it, you shared so much of yourself with so many people over the years, the fact that you were a pharmacist was just one small piece of the picture.
When I visited your territory in the spring, there was something ethereal about retracing the path on the west coast and opening the audits you had begun just weeks and months prior. Reading your comments was difficult, and discussing with your team the action plans you had created. For that week, I was away from my family and in a new part of the country. Although I had a job to do, it never felt like work. In fact, the tasks themselves merely served as a reason to engage pharmacy staff, and speak openly about how we were feeling. They painted a picture of someone so patient, so encouraging in every interaction. In every store, they were gracious and thanked me for my visit, even when the results were underwhelming. I still keep in contact with someand plan to continue. I hope they all realize just how much they helped me overcome my sadness.
One year later, we’re stronger than ever. Change is inevitable, and you are a constant reminder that silver linings are always present on even the darkest of storm clouds.
So tonight the team…check that…your team, will be together once again from across the Atlantic provinces. We will raise a glass, not in mourning, but to honour your impact on each of us. I’m working on my best Neil Young and Bob Dylan impressions in case we happen to grab some guitars and sing along your some of your favourite 70’s folk rock.
We’ll do our best to celebrate to the fullest. We will cherish the times we have together and laugh about this crazy road we travel called life.
Rest easy my friend. Until we meet again,
-Dev
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.
I was hesitant to write two music-themed posts in a row, but as much as I would like to isolate myself in a pharmacy bubble some days, real life forces me to look inwards. Trying to make sense of how people affect each other every single day is a lifetime’s work. In whatever vocation you choose, whether you’re the star of the show, the director, or an essential piece behind the scenes; there is always a deeper story under the uniform.
Gord Downie, best known as the lead singer of the Tragically Hip, passed away Oct 17, 2017 at the age of 53 from brain cancer.
His uniform was that of a poet, whose lyrics evoked canadiana. Hisprose seemed to always leave a sense of mystery as to the true meaning.
Last year in August, I felt compelled to write a post dedicated to the Hip’sfinal concert. I wrote about how it brought so many people (11.7M) together for three full hours of magic. The point of the post was to suggest that we give of ourselves as much as we feel comfortable, and help each other live the best lives we can. The risks and rewards are all part of living life to the fullest; taking our own chances and being ready to catch others should they stumble along the way.
To quote Laura from that post:
“So let’s remember what Gord and the Hip did on Aug 20. They gave everything they had left to their fans in one last hurrah. Every Canadian, healthcare professional or not, can stand to give a little more to others, care a little less what people think and get on with living their best life.”
Being a pharmacist in 2017 is more challenging than ever. Check that, being in healthcare in 2017 is more challenging than ever. As costs continue to rise, service delivery is evolving for all health professionals. There is a need for all health professionals to become more efficient in maximizing our scope. Pharmacists in various parts of the country are involved in a multitude of new services: independent therapy initiation, lab requests, layered access to provincial drug files, projects in the realm of genomic testing and subsequent dosing adjustments, naloxone training, and INR monitoring just to name a few. Patient-focused care is the direction in which we’re headed, with drug therapy being only one avenue to improved health. Some of us are more prepared for these changes, but we all have a part to play in making it happen.
“A great song’s greatest attribute is how it hints at more. The Hip has always had a strong curiosity to see what’s around the next corner. To see what more we can do, what more we can say — to each other, primarily. We try and serve the song. If we’re any good at all it’s because we’re together on that.”— Gord Downie, 2009
Replace the word song with just about any source of pride, and it gets to the heart of who we are as people and as a community. For this blog, I choose to replace the word song with the word profession as that’s truly how I feel about where we are headed. “A great profession’s greatest attribute is how it hints at more…”
You’ve inspired a generation, a country, and gone too soon. You are the personification of the tragically hip, and will live on in the annals of music history.
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.
I’ll wait a moment for you to finish singing the chorus while doing your best Miley Cyrus impression.
Today’s topic has a management slant, due to a number of recent conversations had during our yearly review season. The idea of letting go. It’s something that’s difficult to accept, and even harder to use the philosophy to keep yourself and your teams engaged.
Say you take over a new retail operation as a manager for the first time. As a new manager, chances are you’ve worked on high-functioning teams and learned what to focus on and what NOT to do to get results. The first stage is feeling out the people and the workflow. This period is very blue sky; everything is an opportunity and the urge is there to mix things up.
After a few months, the long-term planning begins. Most of the quick fixes have occurred, and the team has a sense of your style. The schedule may have changed. Certain tasks may be assigned to different roles. New technology may be introduced. Now that the ‘newness’ and shine have worn off somewhat, you’ve settled in and are building your vision for the future.
Then it happens: someone puts in their notice. My immediate reaction used to be: ‘great, in 2 weeks we’ll be short-staffed, I’ll need to take on x, y, and z, plus hire someone, and my best trainer will no longer be here, so we’ll be playing catch up all summer / flu season / Christmas break, etc’. Does this sound familiar? All your best-laid plans are at risk, and you have no idea when you’ll get it back to this happy point right now.
I’ve talked frequently about my satisfaction in watching people learn and grow. I’ve been lucky to work with some of the sharpest minds in my field. They have made me better every step of the way, and I’ve tried my best to pay it forward. My most ambitious employees, the ones I’ve shared experiences, and pushed in new directions, have always left to further their careers. In the moment it’s disappointing, but if I’ve truly prepared them for their next chapter, then they have earned the right to choose what happens next. I will support that decision either way, even if it means letting go.
“Sometimes being a friend means mastering the art of timing. There is a time for silence. A time to let go and allow people to hurl themselves into their own destiny. And a time to prepare to pick up the pieces when it’s all over.” —Octavia Butler
Succession planning isn’t just about looking at a roster of names and picking the best-suited. Succession planning is paying it forward. If someone has taken the time to grow you, then you take the time to grow the folks that you lead. Those goals we set every year? They represent your plan, and the path you both take to get there. If you have an assistant manager, you will be sharing financial information and business plans for the next 6 months. A people supervisor? They will need to evaluate and challenge their staff to learn new tasks and perfect old ones. The hope is that they learn from your examples, and add their own flavour to the process, which should include being an example for their own trainees. The best way to mitigate the loss of a team member is to treat it as an opportunity for another to step into the role.
So I’ve chosen to manage people as if they are on the side of a mountain with me; we’re all trying to reach the top, and everyone has their own footholds and paths to get there. If we encounter each other, my goal will be to lift you as far as I can go, knowing that it may slow me down for a bit, knowing that you may very well pass me on your journey. The end result will be that together, we will be further up the slope, both looking down occasionally to see who may benefit from our help and experience.
It’s never goodbye, only farewell. We’ll see each other again on the climb.
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.
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