Above and Beyond the Call of Duty or Duty? Spotlight on from New Jersy!

[Guest guest]

Dear All,

and I were sharing recently via email of work that we had done,

over the years, that was not in our job description, which led us

also to the joys we had received by some of our actions and those of

others.

I asked her if I could post this and she gave her consent:

" Dear ,

It is a beautiful story and it left me with the SAME lump in my

throat.

A testament to your inner beauty!

May I post this? With your name? of do you prefer without it?

Jeanetta Mastron CPhT BS "

-------------------

Dear Jeanetta,

You can post it with or without my name. It doesn't make a

difference to me.

Thanks,

-------------------------------

" Hi Jeanetta,

I have a story of my own that touched my heart in a special way. I

was going to post it at your site but wasn't sure if I should. It's

pharmacy related (since it happened while I was working), but not

exactly educational in the academic way. I'll tell you and you can

post it if you like. It'll be kind of long, because I'd like to make

sure the setting comes across properly.

Last Friday, I was working the drop off counter in the pharmacy. It

was a quasi-busy sort of day in the ways Fridays usually are. I was

getting ready to take my lunch break when an old woman came to the

counter. She was clean but dressed poorly, old and missing teeth and

she spoke with an old Polish accent. The type of person a lot of

people shun. She had a prescription to be filled from a dentist for

a mouthwash and she wanted to know the price. The prescription was

written from the local dentistry college clinic. Poor people usually

go there because there is no charge for the services. It's the

student's place to practice. Anyway, the woman was concerned about

the price. She explained to me that she had little money to spend.

It was the last day of the month and her social security check for

November wasn't in yet. While I was searching my computer for the

least expensive generic alternative she pulled a bottle of pills from

her pocket.

" You gave these to me and I can't take them, " she said.

They were Calcifolic-D tablets (in case anyone is not familiar with

them they are large chewable tablets). I asked her she knew they were

chewable. She said her teeth were too far gone and she couldn't chew

them. She said she had called the doctor's office and they told her

to put the tablet in applesauce or water and take it that way. (This

part made me laugh.) She said she put the tablet in a glass of water

for 4 hours and it never changed. I asked if she could swallow the

tablet and suggested she break them in half since they were so big.

She said she didn't have the strength to break them. I asked her

permission to take one from the bottle so I could break it for her

and show her the size. I told her I was going to wash my hands

first. She stopped me.

" Don't wash your hands. How dirty can they be? "

I told her I deal with sick people all day and it would just take me

a few minutes. But she pressed on telling me not to worry about it.

Of course I didn't listen to her and washed my hands anyway.

The half tablets were too big for her to swallow too. I asked her if

she could crush them. She wanted to know if she should use a

mallet. I laughed and told her we had pill crushers. I left the

pharmacy to go get one from the shelf for her. As I picked it up, I

noticed the shelf tag read $6.99. I was fairly sure she couldn't

afford it, but I didn't want to insult her. I brought it back to the

counter to show her how it worked. She didn't think she was strong

enough to twist the contraption to crush the pill. I told her if she

had some time to wait I would crush the pills for her.

She seemed overwhelmed that someone would offer to do that for her -

apologizing for taking up too much of time. As I went to the

compounding area of the pharmacy, she stood at the counter and

watched me clean everything before I began. Again, she admonished me

about being overly concerned with cleanliness. I continued cleaning

my area and washing my hands and just assumed that she didn't know

any better.

It took me about 20 minutes to crush the tablets and put them in

plastic bags. All the while, my co-workers looking on like they were

glad they weren't the ones with the misfortune to walk up the counter

and ask " Can I help you? " when she first arrived and delay their

lunch break. I could feel their snickers behind my back.

When I brought her the finished products she took my hand and again

thanked me for being so kind to her. I kept telling her it was ok,

it was nothing, all in a day's work and stuff like that.

It was then she said to me " I watched you so worried about cleaning

your hands and the counter and your tools. I told you you're not

dirty. What germs could you have? I was in a Concentration Camp

during the war. I picked dirty potato peels off the ground with dirt

and ate them to survive. Your germs will not hurt me. But thank you

for being so kind to me. You are special. God Bless you for your

kindness. " And she left.

She left me with a lump in my throat I couldn't explain.

What I thought of as part just another part of my job, she found

truly remarkable.

So now when people wonder why I work in a retail pharmacy, I'll think

about my customer: My Holocaust survivor. Who's day I made a little

brighter just by crushing some pills. "

God Bless you !

Jeanetta Mastron CPhT BS

Pharm Tech Educator

Founder/Owner of this site