The value of hope
Jill Drury started her career as a teenager working in her local drugstore. A job that ignited a lifelong passion for a career in pharmacy and a mission to ensure her patients never went unheard. In a world of fast-paced innovation, Jill reminds us why we must never lose sight of the simple pleasures in life, whatever they might be, including stories shared with old and new friends
Written by Jill Drury, Pharm.D., MBA
As a pharmacist by trade, I have been an inventor and an entrepreneur my whole life. Long gone are the days of independent corner drugstores, but working in one as a teenage girl inspired and shaped me in so many ways. I was constantly challenged and encouraged by managers and mentors to use and leverage my creative abilities to further my career path. Whether it was increasing patient satisfaction or negotiating contracts over soda and candy sales, every challenge that I faced in my pharmacy career taught me something new.
In business school, I continued to grow my skill set to collaborate with diverse groups of people all over the world. I have helped negotiate, innovate, and streamline drug dispensing mechanisms. I have published and worked to enhance public awareness & outreach around numerous industry and health-related topics.
Relaying valuable resources and knowledge to providers across the globe has become the compass of my mission. To gain the necessary perspective and foundation, I have listened carefully to the stories and concerns of the patients who are the very reason why we strive for excellence. They are the ultimate destination in my profession. It is for the patient that we aim to maximise value—value in accessing medications and quality of care that will extend their lives.
The value of hope. There are so many stories to tell.
Bucket lists are often prepared when people are faced with a life-changing fork in the road. Yet, we tend to forget that we should not fear death but fear never being alive. Delaying life is the biggest waste of life. You take today, which is in your control, and give fate and fortune your tomorrow. Bucket lists do not necessarily need to be grand or abandoned entirely once specific bullets may become unattainable. Just making a daily list of goals can help one live in the present, keep spirits alive, and help you remain optimistic for whatever lies ahead.
Years ago as a pharmacist, I brought bucket lists to patients. Listening to others helped me learn how people valued life and the world. Through my cooking and baking passions along with my various travel agendas and stories, I had an opportunity to feed people, to write, and to travel with people through my memories. Most importantly, I was able to make people smile and feel heard. I offered hope.
The pandemic halted us as a society and forced us to pivot and reflect. The world became more virtually connected but temporarily less accessible. Bucket lists grew, yet also became more simple. Climbing Everest was whittled down to trying a local Nepalese restaurant to experience a new culture. Maybe even watching more documentaries. Going to a Michelin-star restaurant became something as lovely as trying new recipes and cooking in one’s kitchen and laughing with family.
These vignettes, these bucket lists, are personal insights into souls and passions. They are the deep lovely parts of someone where they carry hope. I share these stories to inspire you and to find hope knowing someone is always listening and willing to take you on a journey.
A Seat at the Table
I met an amazing nurse who also was a writer for a major national newspaper back when I was digging up and discovering my passions. Dusting off old recipes and compounding in the kitchen led me to her. I playfully submitted a holiday cookie recipe in an annual contest she was judging. Born an old soul, family recipes were memories that energised my spirit and storytelling.
Although I didn’t win that contest, I did gain a friend. She had experienced a full and rewarding life as a nurse/writer/judge/wife/mom. She was incredibly warm and authentic. I saw and felt the genuine connection right away. And as we talked, listened and learned, she gave me an opportunity. My new friend wrote in her national newspaper a story about my nostalgia for the simpler things of the past and highlighted my award-winning jam skills. Now, back when this article was published, jam making was not coined artisan or hipster. Now, jam making is made popular by Royalty and you can charge $15+ a jar. [Insert eye roll.] Anyway, my gratitude for this nurse/writer/judge/wife/mom never waned over time. I always thought about how special she was for honoring my passion, how she honestly loved my jam (it is very good) and how I was so lucky to meet a fellow polymath.
The beautiful thing about social media is that it allows you, even loosely, to stay in touch with the past so it always feels present. I have been able to see this wonderful woman share her life over the years as she has mothered two intelligent and handsome boys and even published her own set of books. She is an amazing individual and any time I would see a post I couldn’t help but smile. So my heart naturally broke when I found out that she has a rare form of lung cancer known as invasive mucinous adenocarcinoma.
I reached out to her. I got her up to speed on my life. I wanted to hear about her diagnosis and listened to the complexities she faced. More commonalities were shared when we met across her kitchen table. I told her how my career pivoted into oncology. How I worked with pharmaceutical companies over the years and never lost my drive to help and hear patients. I hated hearing how she has had to face numerous challenges managing and getting information about her rare disease. I hope she knows I am compassionate and sympathetic when she shares how some have lost their bedside manner.
Rare diseases are often called zebras. Well, in a way, it is ironic. My old friend is a zebra. So raw and honest with her ways and words, so unique and special in this world. Thankfully, this story isn’t over. No one stripe is alike just like no story is the same. I hope to talk to my friend again. I have a feeling her bucket list of ideas includes that lovely rustic kitchen table I sat at…
