The Shock Factor: My Canadian Revelation

First things first: I thrive on delivering bombshell news.

This peculiar trait of mine turned into an insatiable urge the moment I clinched my Canadian Permanent Residency. The thought of dropping the bomb about my departure to Canada filled me with a delicious sense of anticipation. And my first victim happened to be my pharmacist. This guy had been my go-to for every trivial health complaint over the years.

"Guess what? I'm leaving."

"Off to Canada?"

He tossed this over his shoulder, handing me a painkiller—which, given the lack of surprise in his response, I felt I needed more than ever.

"Yes, ..."

He didn't let me finish.

"Finally, you made it! I'm thrilled for you. It's been in the cards for a while, hasn't it?"

His nonchalance left me speechless. I took my painkiller and headed home.

my surprise news apparently not so surprising after all. This scenario played out repeatedly, my revelation met with nods and smiles rather than gasps of astonishment. Here I was, thinking I was delivering a shocker, only to encounter the same underwhelming reactions from friends and acquaintances alike. Each conversation felt like a rerun:

me, excitedly sharing my "shocking" news, and them, acting as if my Canadian escapade was a natural next chapter.

Driven by curiosity, I confronted my pharmacist the next time I saw him.

"What did you mean by 'finally'?"

I asked

"Don't you recall? You've been dreaming out loud about Canada since the dawn of time."

Here's a fun fact:

My memory is as sketchy as a Wi-Fi signal in the wilderness.

Clearly, I've been broadcasting my Canadian aspirations without any recollection of doing so.

The only thing I remember with absolute clarity is the moment I decided to take the plunge 12 months ago. Imagine me, in my mid thirties, middle management in a multinational pharmaceutical Company, applying to live permenantly in a new country that I've never even visited before. Call me clueless, but one thing was certain at that time: I was done with the world of Sales & Marketing.

Securing my PR felt like winning the lottery. I was on cloud nine, ready to leave my old life behind at a moment's notice, eager to tackle whatever the land of maple syrup and polite apologies had in store for me.

Yet, reality soon set in, prompting a serious career consideration. I started exploring my options, anything but the pharmaceutical industry.

“But that’s all you've ever done,” a friend pointed out, unknowingly nudging me towards the very change I needed.

Irony struck hard. I found myself contemplating a return to pharmacy, the field I had meticulously studied in university—THIRTEEN YEARS BACK!

"Thirteen... Thirteen..." I muttered to myself, as the daunting prospect of rebooting my career in an unfamiliar land loomed over me.

I knew if I wanted to get my license I would start with the PEBC Evaluating Exam, but I didn't want to commit yet. Enter Mr. Google, my knight in shining armor. My quest for "PEBC exam books PDF" & "PEBC evaluating exam study material PDF" led to a trove of outdated "free" material. I  quickly realized that studying with such materials was a recipe for disaster. Passing the exam would be a miracle, and even then, my shaky foundation would hardly support a successful career in patient care. But hey, I was still noncommittal.

Our family landing trip to Canada was nothing short of magical. Four days in the Great North erased any remnants of doubt. We were just visitors but had completely succumbed to the charm of our future home.

Upon my return, I handed my notice and enrolled in a PharmAchieve course. Guidance from actual Canadian pharmacists seemed like the beacon of hope I desperately needed. The journey ahead no longer appeared intimidating but exhilarating. The comprehensive course, supplemented with a myriad of resources, rekindled my long-dormant pharmacy knowledge. After all, it had been 13 years since my graduation, and my mind was a blank slate.

Before leaving for Canada, I paid one last visit to my pharmacist.

"Ready to take on Canada?" He asked, with a knowing smile.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

Then, out of the blue, he asked

"I never asked you, what do you do for a living?"

The thought of confessing my pharmaceutical background seemed ludicrous. The idea of him laughing at the irony—me, the indecisive customer, now aspiring to be a licensed Canadian pharmacist—was too much.

So, I blurted out, "I'm in IT."

And with that, I stepped out of his pharmacy, cough syrup in hand, poised to start anew. No concrete plans, but a heart full of hope and excitement.

Canada, here we come.

Are you ready?