Last Week I Discovered My Inner Divinity

I never realized until last week just how much I had in common with Jesus.

I've written before about the dramatic tension that has gripped the happy pill room. What should have been a 10-minute problem has gone on for the better part of a couple months now. Personalities have clashed. Feelings have been hurt and egos wounded. I won't assign any blame other than to say that when the Pharmacy Manager leaves the problem leaves with her. The Pharmacy Manager took some time off last week, which meant the tension that gripped the pharmacy melted away like the fog giving way to life-affirming sunshine.

Sadly, this return of levity and happiness came at a great personal cost to myself, as no relief pharmacist was found to cover the manager's shifts. I took the burden of my world upon me then, sacrificing my body to make my environment a better place for all that inhabit it. Selflessly giving myself so that others may live in peace. Just like Jesus.

I also heal the sick. I bet if I ever meet Jesus we'll have a lot to talk about.

I'd probably ask Jesus what was up with the showgirl that was in the store Thursday. I'm not kidding. A woman in total Las Vegas feathery boob and crotch covering walked into the back room and was promptly marched right back out by the assistant manager. I long to know the story of the showgirl in my store and I bet Jesus could tell me.

One thing Jesus probably couldn't do though, is figure out our system router had lost power the way I did when our computers started acting all screwy for no apparent reason. There's not a lot in the Bible about Jesus being a technophile, so I could probably teach Jesus a thing or two. I hope he's not the kind of guy that would rope me into upgrading his computer to Windows Vista though, because I'd probably feel obligated to so I wouldn't be eternally dammed.

People pray to me though, just like Jesus. They beg for early Vicodin and for faxes to come through from their doctor's office. They pray for prior auth approvals and lower co-pays. Sometimes, when they pray for something they already have coming to them, I go ahead and grant their request, in order to enhance my omnipotent image. Most prayers directed to me go unanswered though, just like if you were directing them to Jesus.

I'll never ask you to eat my body or drink my blood though. That's just gross.

Nurses pray to me too. "I hope this is right" said one immediately before she began to phone in a prescription. I kinda hoped it was right too. I was nearing the end of my streak of twelve hour days and it would be much easier on my tired mind and body if the prescription were right. Not to mention my liability insurance.

Right after that came the French prescription. The French prescription was my crown of thorns. The words were in French, a language which is not English, because the prescription itself was written in France, a country that is not the United States. It was dropped off by a Frenchman who upon landing here had to go though a procedure where a person in an official looking uniform inspected him and his belongings before he was allowed to continue. This happens because different countries have, by definition, different laws regarding nearly everything, not the least of which being business and commerce. This point was lost on the Frenchman, who had no idea why I could not fill a prescription written in a language I do not understand. The Frenchman pressed the crown onto my head over the course of a vigorous debate over the conduction of cross-continental healthcare and when he was done I found a cup of coffee placed next to my computer by my trusty technician, who smiled and then went on about her work like nothing ever happened.

I have the best staff in the world. Neither Jesus nor the Pharmacy Manager better ever try to fuck with them.