Mark a survey and Inform Staff

Peer Review:

Statistical Analyzer:

As a first-generation college student, I went with my heart, which was health care. From a I had hoped it would scratch my science and math itch, but it did not. Matter of fact, I only saw six weeks of new math by (re)taking Calculus I & II. However, that knowledge slipped away because the classes are taught from a algebraic approach. I was quite surprised that the average pharmacy student struggled in math. That intuitive creative part of me was killed there. The problem-solving driven dreams ceased. I had a lot of leeway performing math at home, and so long as I did not break any math rules, my high school teachers had no problem with my solving a problem with another approach from a textbook. This was disallowed there. Had I known then what I know now, I could have gone to a much better school, perhaps Ivy League, on a needs-based scholarship.

I was the freshman who got the top score on that math-science test they administer the first week. It got me a free year, big whoop! I still maxed out my loans and had to take a leave of absence to make money at Mass General to afford to finish. My high school education left me with not much to study my first and part of the second year. There was also student testing that first week to get out of repetitive classes I was never informed of, and got stuck paying for. There was a big influx of students third year, likely tripling the student body. Apparently this was another secret I was not let in on—do two years back home cheaply then transfer in, though I had heard of students who were told their transfer credits would be accepted, then were not.

I used the very last of my money to move home because I was homesick. I was never advised that in my state, they wanted experienced pharmacists, not new players. I never wanted to do retail, and ended up there as a floater, the only job I could find. I was very precise, which is not what chain stores want, which is volume, volume, volume. No one bothered to work with me to analyze what I do differently and help me to succeed. I remember crying in my mother's arms after my third day because now I had $26-28,000 to pay back in a job that used only 2 percent of my college education. Every day I worked at Brooks I felt I failed. I only remember one good day, picking up a case of ACE-inhibitor cough, and the man's wife calling me back and stating, "Leave it to a woman to get it right." I mainly remember complaints over "how long," and having my intelligence insulted routinely. Dealing with that experience was never part of the later professional education labs.

My advice: Go to a real university. Make a Plan B, including living situations. I nearly did not make it to my third year because the quiet wing was not second year, with two very loud males blasting music. I slept afternoons and took what I could in the evenings. I would awake at 3-4 AM every morning with nervous diarrhea. I would prepare my backpack the night before and leave as quietly as possible, but I know it woke my roommate still. Dean James did nothing. I decided I either find an off-campus situation or not come back for third year . A work connection saved me, but my housing was nearly ripped from me, when she finished her degree and was going to leave, no notice, and as a subletter, I would have had no place to live for my last three months. She did not get or take the job she interviewed for—whew! Health may also throw you a curve ball, as mine did, getting sick at 25, diagnosed at 26 and on disability by age 29, because my illness affected my ability to drive and see clearly. This very narrow degree sealed my fate. You either have the means to find a job somewhere in the country that fits you, or you are stuck. Had I done a more general degree, like business or computer science, I would have had my Plan B to do in my home state. There was no money to go elsewhere. My parents did not have money. I had no one I could borrow from to try another state, though I was licensed in one other state.

I did not keep up with classmates. I fell back a year or more due to the the money squeeze, so the classmates I had freshman year had leapfrogged ahead of schedule, and I fell far enough behind that I finished late, spending the last 18 months with a bunch of strangers.

I remember being threatened by an adjunct professor for the PPP lab with blackballing because I politely disagreed with an answer and had the citation from the textbook to prove it. And I just remembered the topic: Why NSAIDs can cause ulcers. The students at my table said something like

acid burning a hole,

Over all, the first year was positive, to live on my own for the first time, with someone who was also quiet, and part of a small group I enjoyed sharing breakfast and supper with. However, it was all downhill from there. Once off campus, only one student came to visit me. My housing was precarious with a housemate who could not make her expectations clear to me, along with dealing with the long commutes by the unreliable T taking up a good chunk of time I could have used to study or work or whatnot.

I am unsure what applicability the education has to the licensing exam and work but what is taught is relevant to the exam but not for success at work in the field, and there is a huge mismatch. Even as

Director of Pharmacy

Expect mail to keep coming. Every time I move, the catalogs and conference stuff starts showing up again. You are a pharmacist and alumnus for life, so don't forget to send them something special. Last time, I left without a forwarding address hoping to avoid this, and they must have bought my data from somewhere. My licenses long ago lapsed. This is so annoying. I suppose now they are MCPHS University the old email address I used the last could of times will not work. I am going to look for an analogous email address right now because I will move in the next 1-2 years, working again believe it or not, but not in this field. While the fitful and creative dreams have not occurred, I am having some remarkable brainstorms while doing mundane things that will lead me to teaching a solution I have put together for a problem. From mourning the loss of my mother last July, there has been rebirth because I am no longer responsible for someone's safety and well-being, and the mind-numbing, incessant paperwork that goes with it.