Years ago, my neighbor had this bumper sticker, “You were created for something awesome. Find your purpose. ” I would see this bumper sticker every day, and hope that, indeed, someday, I would find my purpose. I never imagined that I was meant for more than being a mom and wife. Content with my role, I still kept hoping my awesome purpose would make itself known. Nearly 20 years after dropping out of college, I have found my purpose – I’m helping to heal my family and friends. When I was in high school, I had a plan.
After graduation, I would take some time off before starting college. After majoring in mathematics, I planned to one day teach high school geometry. Why I chose mathematics, specifically high school geometry, I have no idea, but it was what I had my mind set upon. I didn’t actually develop this plan until I was in 11th grade, at which point my GPA was an astounding 1. 8, but I had a plan. Mathematics had always been my toughest subject, and my grades reflected as much, but I had a plan.
Putting my nose to the theoretical grindstone, I studied harder during my last two years of high school than I had in my previous 10 years of combined schooling, earning myself a final GPA of 3. 8. But, as Robert Burns famously wrote in his poem, “To a Mouse,”: “The best laid schemes o’ Mice an’ Men/Gang aft agley” (Burns, 1785). I began summer classes at the local community college the day after I graduated high school. In hindsight, that was probably my first mistake. I gave into pressure from my father to start college immediately rather than taking the summer off.
I registered for 2 summer classes: California history and advanced algebra. I breezed through the algebra class, but the history class was my introduction into just how unprepared I was for higher learning. Despite feeling discouraged from failing my history class, I registered for fall semester. I kept reminding myself that I had a plan, and I threw myself into my studies. I found my groove. registered for winter courses, and then, with two pink lines, my best laid schemes went awry. At 18, feeling much like Atlas with the weight of the world weighing down on me, I dropped out of college.
This decision kicked off a chain of events, both good and bad. It wasn’t a decision I made, as much as it was one my father made for me. Citing my being a bad role model for his wife’s young children, my father kicked me out. Much like a ton of bricks, reality came crashing down: I was a pregnant teen, unmarried, a college dropout, and now I was homeless. So, like any terrified adult, I moved back home with my mom. It was time to rethink my purpose. Determined to be responsible for my actions, I began looking for a job. Finding work in our little hamlet proved to be a difficult task.
Many places were reluctant to hire someone who was 5 months pregnant, as it was a given | would only be working for about 4 months, but my determination finally won out. In what would be my introduction into the world of medicine and homeopathy, I was hired to work as a cashier in a local pharmacy. When I initially walked through the doors of Keenan’s Cambria Village Pharmacy to apply for a job, I saw a small-town pharmacy: shelves full of over-the-counter medicines, a counter, a cash register, a pharmacy window, and a pharmacist.
As I began walking through the doors as an employee, I found that this small-town establishment offered much more: homeopathic remedies shared shelf space with allopathic remedies, books about natural healing sat next to the large rubber ducky display, and the owner was interested in holistic healthcare. These were things that slowly revealed themselves to me as I continued working at the pharmacy, and as I discovered them on the shelves, I would find myself asking the owner for more information, becoming more and more interested in medicine with every conversation.
When I stopped working at the harmacy to have my daughter, I thought I was done with the company. I intended to just throw myself into motherhood. It became quite clear the pharmacy wasn’t ready to give me up, when, less than two months after the birth of my beautiful baby girl, Kiera Riyan, the lady I trained to replace me called in a panic. She told me she couldn’t handle the stress of the job, that she quit, and she was locking the store and going home. After contacting the owner, who lived a couple of cities over, I packed up my little girl and her playpen, and we headed to the pharmacy to help out.
That day began a whole new chapter in my life; a chapter that included my daughter becoming the “pharmacy baby”, pharmacy technician training, and meeting my husband. I was employed for nearly three years by the Village Pharmacy, and in that time I learned some interesting things. I learned that Tabsolutely loved working with people and sharing what I knew about the over-the-counter items we sold. I learned I was so interested in the healthcare industry, that I started “training” to be a pharmacy technician. I now had a new plan! Once my daughter was a little older, I was going to go back to school to become a pharmacy technician.
Until that time came, I was just going to work in the front of the pharmacy, and continue studying on my own. And then I met my husband. In a relatively small amount of time, I learned my most important lesson: stop making plans. When you make plans, life has a funny way of turning them all on their ears. In the short span of 5 years, life threw me a dozen curveballs, and more than a few strikes, but I kept swinging. I had a 6month-old baby and a new plan for our future when my future husband walked through the door of the pharmacy. months later, we were married, and, by the next year, we were both working for the Village pharmacy.
One more year found us pregnant, with another beautiful daughter, and, again, I put my future plans on hold. Emmaline Belle was born 9 months later, and we decided my staying home to take care of the children made the most sense. Three more years found us pregnant, with yet another beautiful daughter, and moving for the 6th time. The town we were living in had a large “granola” community, and I spent many playdates being inundated with information about cloth diapers, homemade fruit leathers, and babywearing.
The “crunchy” mommas talked about cough medicine as if it were poison, and immunizations were abhorred by many. I listened with only half an ear. What did these ladies think they knew that doctors didn’t know? It was also around this time that my husband was diagnosed with type Il diabetes. Prescription medication was the only solution, at least that is what they told us. Eventually, we would learn better information. Fast forward five years, and we made our 9th (and final) move to a small Washington town and our girls are all in school. I tried applying for the nursing program at the local college.
The nursing program was popular, and the slots filled quickly. Because I was unable to get into the program, I took on a parttime job. I was working my boring retail job when I met a kindred soul. Crystal was much like me: bored, “weird”, and just this side of crazy. After many scintillating conversations, I realized that I was friends with one of the strongest people I had ever met. By 25, she had already had a heart attack, battled uterine and cervical cancer (and won). Diagnosed with multiple sclerosis and fibromyalgia, I hated seeing how much pain she was in every day.
I took to the internet and searched for natural pain remedies until my fingers threatened to fall off. For all the little things that niggled the idea of healthcare in the back of my mind, my best friend being in severe pain every day brought the idea closer to the surface. We began experimenting with infused oils about two years after we became friends. We daydreamed about owning a store where we could sell our oils, potions, and beauty products. When I started looking for aromatherapy information, I found the American College of Healthcare Sciences, and mentioned hat it sounded interesting. We added the idea to our daydreaming.
As Crystal’s pain became less manageable, her doctor put her on a strong prescription to treat the neuralgia. The medication turned her into a reclusive zombie. Without any way of managing the pain that had been her constant (unwelcome) companion for almost 8 years, she decided that she was too much of a burden on her family and friends, and she tried to take her life. Her husband was able to stop her, and that was the exact moment that made the decision to study herbal medicine.
After spending close to 20 years not having any exact idea on where my life was heading, and having almost every schemed scheme fail, the clarity was startling. It was as if an optometrist had flipped the little lens: “Which one is better? This? Or this? ” | thought about how many people I had met in recent years that lived with either multiple sclerosis or fibromyalgia, and how many people I knew that lived with type Il diabetes. I knew tha there had to be something other than zombifying medications for pain and expensive prescriptions to help control blood sugar levels.
After a family discussion, I signed up for the next semester at ACHS. If you had told me 20 years ago that I would be planning on working in the healthcare field, I probably would have laughed. I probably would have told you that I was destined to be a teacher of some sort. But through the twists and turns of the lives happening around me, I find myself here: a mother, wife, and friend, determined to improve the quality of life of those around me through alternative healthcare practices. A 36-yearold CAM student, whose future is still uncertain, but whose purpose is not, and many possibilities in front of me.
