Seven ways my first clinical hospital pharmacy placement taught me the subtle art of not giving a fuck about the stuff that doesn’t matter in life — 1. Maturity means knowing what to invest our limited mental resources on. When most of one’s life has already been lived, they are left with life’s bare-bones — what really matters — family, legacy, and health. Seeing the world through the eyes of the elderly during my time on the ward helped me become more mature because it served as a constant…

Fictional short story — “Whoever said that riding a horse is a therapy session on four legs had me all figured out!” I said to Alex with a chuckle as we pulled up to the stables run by Mel’s family on that crisp, sunny late Friday afternoon. Mel was the sweetheart that Alex’s closest…

Fictional short story — “That can’t be right,” I exclaimed in shock. “I was expecting way more than half a pound. My weight was up by two pounds last week and four the week before!” Dr. Goodman smiled. “I told you your metabolism would adjust and the weight would start to level off if…

Fictional short story — Two weeks after getting out, I returned to the psych hospital, for the second time, to see Dr. Goodman for my weekly check-in. It was a breezy Friday afternoon, and I was in the passenger seat of Alex’s car. “I’m so proud that you’re two weeks hospital-free, my love. And…

Fictional short story — One week after my discharge, my dad pulled up to the front entrance of the psych hospital. I was in the passenger’s seat, drained from the weight of my already emotionally packed day. I’d gone to see my psychiatric nurse practitioner, Nurse Talia, just that morning at the Community Mental…

Fictional short story — As soon as I walked through the sliding glass doors of the Mood Disorders Clinic, I nervously glanced down at my watch. It was 10:02 a.m., which meant I was two minutes late. I had arrived for my therapy appointment with my psychiatric nurse practitioner, Nurse Talia. It had been…

Fictional short story — As the hospital porter whisked me down the deserted hospital halls, my mind was calmed by the cool air dancing around my face. It was the first day I’d been taken off the psych unit since the paramedics took me to the ER after my seizure the week before. I…

Fictional short story — The first thing I did when I woke up was make a coffee in my travel mug and shuffle over to the burn clinic to get my dressing changed. That daily trek had become my new normal. …

Fictional short story — It was a crisp Sunday morning in late October. I was lying in bed with my Pitbull Zoe cuddled up next to me, still groggy from the previous evening’s sleeping pills. I could hear birds chirping and the wind whistling through the trees from my open window. Lounging comfortably under…