Sunday, August 16, 2009


I've returned! I'm home.

Home? you say, Where have you been?

New Jersey.

Jersey? What for? Why?

Well, I'll tell you . . .

About five months ago I left the drug company I'd been employed with for the previous three years to take a promotion with another company. This meant that along with the new doctors I gained responsibility for, I acquired new drugs, which often means new disease states, which means intensive training. Which is what I've been engaged in for the last five months.

Five new drugs: a whole lot of training. I spent the last two weeks in New Jersey immersed in the heavy part of my training on the last two of the five medications I now promote.

(Putting you in the pharmaceutical know: At this company, as in most pharmaceutical companies, the first phase of initial training is a bunch of home study--review of relevant anatomy and physiology, disease state study, drug review, a run-through of competitive products, and a whole bunch of tests on all of the above to prove that you understand and remember what you've been studying. The second phase sends you to the home office for implementation training--the part where you apply what you studied at home, take more tests on it, and then hop to work practicing to make what you studied relevant to the physician/staff. That second phase is where I've been for the last two weeks.)

Let's be very clear here: the training I was just sent to New Jersey to engage in is no pushover review. It's the kind of training that occurs in a temporary bubble.

Family doesn't exist any more. You're not married. You're not female. You're not into yoga. You don't have any pets. You certainly don't have any kids. You don't have friends. Despite the fact that like an idiot you brought them, you don't have jeans. You don't have flip flops. You have a hotel room. You have a training facility. You have a rental car. You have coworkers. You have drugs. It's not the company that makes those designations, it's necessity.

When in the microcosm of training, in order to make the trip worth your time and prove to all that you are the superstar your boss has told his cohorts he hired, you have to eschew all bits of your reality that have naught to do with excelling at work. That, Dear Reader, included my blog. For me, it meant going off the grid; and, if I'm being totally honest, I'm telling you that I really, really liked it. I like anonymity. I like solitude. I like falling into study. It's why I did well in college. Hellish, monofocus study is what I'm good at.

But I'm home now.

And when I had time to, I missed you.

Was my training a success? Was I successful? I'd say that since I now dream in disease state and have officially discontinued-until-further-notice all KnuckleHeaders work, that yes, I was successful. I know what needs to be done to kick ass. My dad calls it "cranking." I know I have the capacity to do it. And I'm going to.

And I think my manager will be very pleased with my final video role play that the training department has put on a USB drive and is shipping to him for review. (I'll tell you what: I had me a set of awfully raw nerves when preparing for and executing that little gem. Just thinking about it gives me Popcorn Gut.)

Over the next little while you may get to enjoy a few posts comprised of innocent tidbits from my trip (so far as I can remember them). Although I am no longer taking on design work and have whittled my reading down to even fewer than the 18 blogs I was subscribing to before, I simply cannot back off of my Remarkings. I just have too much to say.

Lucky you.


Lindsay said...

I've actually missed your controversial, opinionated, laughable, intelligent writing! Glad you're back!

Jessica said...

happy day, you're back! luckily, your break somewhat coincided with my own "computer fast", of sorts. congrats on finishing your marathon training.

Julie said...

Gosh, I love New Jersey. I actually lived there, so I am allowed to say that.

Glad to have your musings back.

rabidrunner said...

Bless your heart!

Unknown said...

good to see you back. and glad to hear that you are kicking pharmaceutical bum. (no idea if i spelled that correctly, and don't feel like checking.)