Blake is so sexy. LOL
Bring on the girls!
Month: January 2015
Work: Take Your Crown, Princess, and Shove It Somewhere Dark
Can I vent?
Too bad, I’m gonna vent.
I don’t DO drama. I just don’t. It’s stupid, immature and a complete of waste of time and energy. I’ll pick my battles.
And today, I picked a battle.
Look. I don’t ask much out of my co-workers. Be nice. Have a sense of humor. Be professional. AND DO YOUR DAMN JOB.
That’s it.
Well. Bonus points if you have common sense. (A rare commodity nowadays, granted).
I work with all women, save for one male MA, the doctors and the PA’s (though my PA is a woman and QUITE AWESOME, I must admit).
So learning to get along with all of those personalities, and yes, divas and drama queens, can be quite challenging.
And when I say divas and drama queens, I don’t necessarily mean that in a bad way. We all have our “days.” Those days when every little thing sets us off and we’re either snapping with claws out, or we’re crying and dabbing at runny mascara.
I have my days, too. The difference, I think, is that I RECOGNIZE when I’m feeling hormonal and I issue blanket apologizes and warnings before it gets out of hand. And I try my hardest to keep the collateral damage to a minimum – after all, my issues/annoyances will soon pass.
But I think that comes with age and since I’m the oldest person in my group (wow – when you put it that way), I have experience to back me up. I know where that line is and I’m very careful not to cross it.
I had an one-on-one meeting with my boss this past week. Nothing too unusual in that – we have a standing monthly meeting with her to address any concerns we have and to bring her up-to-date on what’s going on with the nursing department. She’s always busy with meetings and whatever else managers do on a daily basis.
The meeting was going great. (I truly admire my boss). And we get to this part,
“How is clinic going?”
I wasn’t going to say anything, guys. I truly wasn’t. I mean, my nurse is new, she’s still trying to get the hang of things … give her time. And I overlook, and ignore, a lot of things. (Such as the fact she gives more attention to the lunch menu, what she’s going to order and other food topics more than she pays attention to clinic, but I didn’t bring that up. I think her obsession with food is stress related and I don’t want to add to her stress).
But if there is one thing I can’t stand is lazy. Do your damn job. We’re all there with one goal in mind: to take care of the patients. And if you’re not going to do your damn job, then don’t you DARE complain that it’s not going well and THEN TRY AND BLAME ME for that.
Oh yes she did.
She didn’t come right out and blame me, but she certainly implied that the reason things were not going that smoothly was because of me. She told our PA that.
I never take lunches. At times I’m literally running to bring patients back and keep his exam rooms full so that he’s happy and we’re taking care of patients in a timely manner. I’m responsible for bringing patients back to exam rooms, starting notes, recording current complaints, getting vitals and then after the doctor has seen them, to schedule whatever they need before wishing them a great day and showing them to the exit.
I’m fast, but I’m not THAT fast. So there are times we have several charts up front (which is my cue that patients are ready to come back) and several empty rooms. In the meantime, I’m stuck with either starting notes or scheduling follow ups – I need help. This would be the perfect opportunity for my nurse to jump in and help me unless she’s busy scheduling a surgery or in the middle of something.
But most times, she’s not. And she just chooses to sit on her ass and let me run around with my head cut off.
And even though I hinted that we had patients to show back, she either chooses to ignore my hints or just ignores me entirely. And I’ve let it roll off my back. Whatever. I go on thinking pretty bad thoughts but keep them all to myself.
Luckily, other people have noticed this little snafu in our clinic. My PA has noticed it. Another nurse from another team (that we share a pod with) has noticed. And I’m relieved because I thought maybe I was just being overly sensitive.
Whew. It’s not just me.
What I’m asking her to do is not unreasonable. All the other nurses help room patients when they can.
So. I mentioned the lack of help to my boss. I mean, how can a person improve on something if that person doesn’t ever know there’s a problem, right?
My boss listened to my concerns and then said, “Well. Let’s have a meeting with said nurse later today and see if we can’t come up with a solution.”
Erhm, awkward, but I agreed.
We had our meeting and I was pretty honest in my “suggestions.” To my surprise, instead of this nurse saying “Oh sure, I can help out more,” she has multiple excuses as to WHY she can’t help more.
I was truly flabbergasted.
But you know what? Screw it. I voiced my concerns. My boss knows about the situation – I’m just going to continue doing my job to the best of my ability and say nothing more.
I’m confident my performance will speak for me. And I’m confident that her lack of performance will speak for her.
Work: The Sky is Falling
So, I get to work (side note – it was freaking COLD last week!! Wednesday’s high was 13!), reach out to grab the door handle to go into the clinic and I hear it – the faint sound of an alarm.
Was the alarm our clinic? Was the alarm coming from the apartments behind the clinic?
Feeling cold and not really caring overly much, (I’m curious – but not THAT curious), I enter the clinic. I head back to the pit (side note – did I tell you guys that we call the nursing area where we answer phones – we don’t have voicemail – the pit? Because it is … the pits. Get it?) when the medical secretary asks, “Did you hear the alarms when you came in?”
“Yes. But I couldn’t tell where it was coming from.”
“It’s us,” she says.
“Wait. How is it us? Wouldn’t we hear it in here?” Which I didn’t.
“It’s coming from the back, something to do with the sprinkler system, I think.”
“Humph,” I shoot back, because honestly, I don’t care overly much. I’m very choosy what I expend energy on – just ask any of my co-workers. lol
I go out into the clinic area, grab some clean gloves and Sani-wipes and begin to clean my exam rooms. (Because I forgot to do it the day before). As I’m nearing the last room, I hear dripping water – like several drips. I round the corner and see this …
I hunt down management (they’re in a huddle near the door trying to figure out why the alarm is going off because OF COURSE).
“Um, guys? Did you happen to see exam room 15?”
Apparently, we had some pipes burst. But not because of the cold but because the pipe threads, on several pipes over exam room 15, had rusted through, weakened and with the cold weather expanding them, they broke, spilling A LOT of water. I don’t if you can see it or not, but the white chunks on the floor? Is ceiling tile. A big section fell into the room. Management put trash cans out to catch the dripping water and started making calls.
Luckily, that didn’t happen the day before, because there was a doctor USING that exam room yesterday. And I remember that doctor’s team commenting on how HOT the room had been – a precursor to today’s disaster, I suppose.
And luckily, it wasn’t one of my clinic days. Because the MA’s who were in clinic that day had to re-direct their patient traffic in order to avoid wading through ankle-deep water.
And that was the start of my day that day.
If there is one thing you can count on in healthcare, you can’t count on anything in healthcare. It’s constantly changing from day-to-day. Sometimes, from hour-to-hour.
Video: Can’t Choose
This is my great-niece. The pretty blonde is her momma, my niece. I love babies. I’m afraid this may be the closest I ever get to a grandchild. 😦
Also. How creepy would it be if adults suddenly shrieked when they couldn’t contain their joy a moment longer? HA!
Prompt: Windshield Bug Juice
Tell us about the time you rescued someone else (person or animal) from a dangerous situation. What happened? How did you prevail?
Did I tell you guys about the time Kevin nearly got ran over by an ambulance in New York City?
It was a few months after his motorcycle accident. It was July 2010. We had already booked a cruise out of New York to Canada and we weren’t sure if we would be able to go considering Kevin shattered his pelvis in April.
He had to live in a wheelchair for about 8 weeks after his accident to give his pelvis time to heal. Once the doctor’s said it was okay, he had to learn to walk all over again.
I tried to talk him out of the trip. Luckily, we had bought trip insurance and we could have gotten out of the trip if he really wanted to. He waffled back and forth on whether he could handle it and in the end, we went.
The trip was super hard on Kevin. SUPER HARD. We walked all over that city and poor Kevin hobbled along with his cane at first, but it just got to be too much for him so he switched to his walker.
You can really tell how weak and exhausted he was in this picture:
We were riding the New York subway and it was almost more than he could handle.
I felt so sorry for him.
And the weather certainly didn’t help – New York in July?!? What were we thinking?! I think we all lost five pounds in sweat alone.
We were only in New York a few days before catching our boat, but Kevin was exhausted after those few days and we still had another four days on a cruise boat to go!
In hindsight, we probably should have canceled the cruise. But I will say that though the trip for Kevin was super hard, it did him a world of good. He recovered by leaps and bounds after that trip. I think pushing himself really helped his body to heal faster.
But I wouldn’t want him to go through that again to test my theory.
And did I mention he didn’t complain once??
I am glad, though, that we took his walker. At least he instantly had someplace to sit when our walking just got to be too much.
We were walking through Times Square and … I don’t know if you’ve ever been to Times Square but it’s sensory overload, on crack. There’s so much noise. So many sights to see. So many people to dodge that your eyes don’t know where to land first and it’s hard to pick out sounds because THERE ARE SO MANY SOUNDS!
We were walking across the entrance to a side street, all of our heads turned in opposite directions, when I suddenly picked up the sound of a siren. (This was before I worked at the hospital – my life on foreshadow mode). I glanced down the side street and noticed an ambulance barreling toward us.
I hurried the boys across and then noticed that Kevin was distracted and hadn’t picked up on the fact that a two-ton truck was nearly on top of him. I yelled over the noise, frantically pointing in the direction of the white blur baring down on him. He was using his walker to cross the street and when he spotted the ambulance, he stumbled/speed walked to get out of the way.
I would have laughed but I was too terrified. It’s sort of like making a joke too soon after a traumatic event – the adrenaline hasn’t had a chance to wear off – and we had just survived six weeks of hospital and rehab after his motorcycle accident – how ironic would it have been for him to recover from that harrowing experience only to be run down by an ambulance, using his walker, in Times Square?
I didn’t really “rescue” him, more like I “warned” him, but I deserve a kudos for making sure the man didn’t end up bug juice on an ambulance windshield.
Right?
Photo: {My Work Peeps}
I truly love the people I work with. Everyone has a sense of humor. Everyone takes her job seriously. We all work as a team.
I couldn’t ask for a better work family, truly.
Write: Girl Unclaimed
I threw the stick and watched Daisy run after it, her tongue lolling to one side, her stubby little legs pumping unrestrained excitement.
I glanced out over the water and became momentarily mesmerized by the light flirting with the small ripples from fish nibbling algae on the surface of the lake.
And then I saw it – a yellow spot among the tall, green grass gently swaying in the sweet twilight breeze. I narrowed my eyes to try and pick out the object without having to actually move closer to it. My peripheral vision blurred as I concentrated on the object that did not belong in this secluded spot. A slow feeling of dread started in my sternum and gently crept up to give my heart a warning squeeze.
Daisy dropped the stick on my sandal and I jumped – I had momentarily forgotten all about her. I bent to pick up the stick, my eyes never leaving that spot of yellow. From my lowered vantage point, my eyes focused on something new. Was that … an arm?
I quickly stood up, my breath caught behind the sudden fear in my throat.
I gripped the stick tighter in my hand and cautiously moved toward the object in the grass.
Daisy happily skipped alongside me. Her gait faltered as we got closer, her nose lifted and she suddenly growled low in her throat.
“I know, Daisy. Chillax,” I crooned in an attempt to keep her calm and not start a barrage of barking. The less noise we made the better.
I held the stick out in front of me – I guess I thought I could use it as a weapon. Though not long or sharp, it was thick enough that it might do temporary damage to a skull, or two.
My eyes never left the object, but I was keenly aware of where I was stepping. I had enough combat experience to slip back into that persona with very little effort. I had thought I had lost my edge but moving toward the target brought back a barrage of memories and I involuntarily winced as horrific images began to flicker and flit through my consciousness. Memories I had spent countless hours in therapy trying to eradicate.
My eyes narrowed as I got closer. It was definitely a body, a woman, no, a girl. She couldn’t have been more than twenty-years old. I paused to assess my surroundings. I looked out over the lake and studied the parameter. No movement. The birds continued to sing, a raccoon edged toward the far end of the lake and carelessly swiped at the water gently lapping the shore.
A soft breeze swept over the body. I crinkled my nose. Decomp – she had probably been dead for at least 24 hours.
“Damn it.” I sighed and slowly stepped back from the body. I couldn’t afford to leave any trace of myself on the body. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my cell phone. I pressed 9-1 and then stopped.
Even if I called in anonymously, they would still track my cell phone down. I couldn’t afford to be found. Not yet anyway. Not after I had spent the last three years making sure every trace of my existence had been erased.
I studied the girl’s face and slowly put my phone back into my pocket.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered regretfully. My apology dissipated on the summer breeze.
Write From Karen 