Crashing and Burning Out
Ellie Guzman

I know where you’re coming from. I worked as a pharmacy narcotics technician in a major Philadelphia hospital. Every hour, you had to fill a cart with drugs, IV bags, etc., and deliver to 7 or 8 floors in 40 minutes, answering stupid questions, fighting with broken elevators, getting back in time to distribute all the returned drugs, fill up the cart again — and you made this trip 7 or 8 times a shift, all the while having to find time to fill prescriptions, do inventory, package split doses. In 4 years we saw salary increases twice, each time of about 20 cents and hour. I finally had to resign as the bad pay and endless stress wasn’t worth it. I think you made the right decision. No job is worth chest pains, endless physical and emotional pain and getting up in the morning so depressed you wonder whether you should dress for work or run for the razors. I wish you well.