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.
Tell us about your first day at something — your first day of school, first day of work, first day living on your own, first day blogging, first day as a parent, whatever.
It’s Obama’s fault that I work in healthcare.
I never, in a million years, even TOSSED the idea around of working in healthcare before our glorious dictator, erhm, leader, (*said with sarcasm*) started the current nightmare we’re living in right now. (Have you guessed that I DESPISE the man?)
It never even occurred to me to attempt it. I knew I could never be a nurse. Not so much for the gross factor (though there is that – KUDOS to nurses!), but I get so impatient with people who are sick or in pain. (Just ask my family). My first reaction is to say, “suck it up, buttercup.”
Not exactly stellar bedside manner, right?
This attitude applies to me, too. It drives me CRAZY to be sick or have some pain I can’t seem to control or get rid of.
But when Obama waved his scepter and deemed Obamacare to be the law of the land (*snicker* – yes, I’m being bitchy), I knew I had to DO something to protect my family. I had been a stay-at-home mom for the past seven years – the kids were old enough to take care of themselves and it was time to get back to work. But where to work? I could try and use my degree (I graduated from college in 2003 with a Technical Writing degree – more on why I didn’t pursue this later), but what if it took me forever to FIND a local job in that field? Time was of the essence, who knew how Obamacare would screw everything up for us?
Kevin was (is) self-employed. And with me not working, we were paying ASTRONOMICAL fees for family health insurance. And we were looking at even higher fees once Obamacare passed.
What were my options? I could go back to retail, banking or even the restaurant business. I have a lot of experience in all of those fields, but even then, how much would it ultimately cost us for health insurance?
I admit, the main reason I applied at the hospital was because I wanted to thumb my nose at Obama and his stupidity. How ironic would it be to have health insurance through a healthcare facility? Oh sure, I know that Obama will never know, nor care, about my decision to work in healthcare simply because of his God-like complex to ultimately control his minions (again with the bitchy), but I figured, on some level, that it might be the safest option in order to protect my family.
So. I applied and to my utter astonishment, I got the job.
Actually, that’s not true. I applied first to the insurance processing center and made it to my second interview. I sat at a table with four other women, the women I would be ultimately working with, interviewing me and I guess they didn’t like me because I didn’t get the job. I didn’t give up though. There was a scheduler’s position at the neurosurgery center that I went for and got. I was now responsible for scheduling testing for two neurosurgeons.
I was both excited and terrified. I bought my required scrubs (at that time we were wearing a different color every day so it was quite expensive initially) and my first day on the job consisted of all-day training, becoming familiar with the hospital rules and regulations, signing up for benefits, etc. We were allowed to wear business attire for my first two days of training.
There were a handful of us – maybe around 20? I remember feeling VERY THANKFUL because the economy was tanking at that time and I was just grateful to have ANY job, let alone the job I landed. I felt extremely grateful to be there.
That feeling quickly dissipated when I started my first day at the clinic. It was on Wednesday and after my boss took me around the clinic and introduced me, I began to fully appreciate what I had gotten myself into.
I knew nothing, NOTHING, about the medical field. In essence, I had to learn a whole new language. I had to learn new software; I had to learn how to be what they wanted me to be by constantly adjusting and readjusting my expectations and my personality. I was absolutely terrified and I wondered, on more than one occasion, just what the hell I was doing there.
I also came very, very close, to walking out several times. (Even recently).
I was so stressed. Just when I thought I had “gotten it,” something, or someone, would throw me a curve ball and I was left floundering. I suppose I did a good job of hiding my terror because months later, when I had become comfortable with my position and the people I worked with, I told them how I felt when I first started and my co-workers were shocked – they had no idea, they said.
I guess that was something, at least.
I could BS my way through patient interactions. I’m telling you, the most helpful class I took in college was communication. It taught me to understand different personalities and how to get along with those personalities. It taught me patience and how to word things so that people didn’t take offense but at the same time, it allowed me to maintain control over the situation.
I think everyone should be required to take a communications class like that (and I’m talking about the art of communication – studying Aristotle and the likes. It sounds boring, and it was, for the most part, it was also difficult to digest, but once that light bulb went off in my head, I feel like I can pretty much handle any personality now).
What stressed me out the most, and still does on many levels, was interacting with the doctors. As if rubbing elbows with doctors in general is not nerve-wracking enough, I’m rubbing elbows with BRAIN SURGEONS. To become a brain surgeon, you have to be the top 1% – these guys are SCARY SMART. Human, but Einstein smart.
I would feel nauseous anytime I had to speak directly with a doctor. Did I ask my question plainly? Should I have been able to answer my question without going to the doctor? Did I present myself in a professional manner? Will they like me or ask management to get rid of me?
(Hey – that’s actually happened before).
The doctors TERRIFIED me. I drove home, on many, many occasions when I first started working for the hospital, crying because I was so stressed out from trying to learn everything. Thank God I’m a fast learner. I tend to catch on quickly.
Looking back, I’m pretty proud of myself. I stepped into a world I knew little to nothing about and conquered it, somewhat. I’m currently working on educating myself so that I can take a certification test and become a CMA (certified medical assistant) which will lead to a raise and more responsibility. I’m feeling more comfortable in my duties and I’ve been told by both management, and the doctors (EEK!) that I’m doing a good job.
It sort of blows my mind, to be honest.
Oh – one more first to tell you about – the first time I had to take staples out. It was a PLIF (posterior lumbar interbody fusion). The nurse showed me how to use the tool and I got down on my knees, swallowed the bile back down my throat and took those suckers out. It’s actually sort of fun, to be honest. Unless they’ve been in for a while and they’re starting to scab over. Then you have to dig into the flesh a bit and that hurts the patient. I’m still not 100% confident on removing staples, but I just swallow my apprehension, grit my teeth and force myself to do it and appear confident while doing it. (Which is key – my lead nurse told me that patients will never know that you haven’t done something very often, as long as you sound confident while doing it).
I watched a carpal tunnel suture removal the other day. I haven’t done one of those yet. My doctor doesn’t do very many carpal tunnels. That’s pretty cool. You first don a pair of clean gloves, swab the stitches with rubbing alcohol to remove germs/bacteria, then you take your scissors and snip the stitch while pulling it by the knot with the tweezers. I’ve yet to see one long continuous stitch removed – I’ve put the word out if anyone gets one of those to come get me so I can watch how they do it.
So those are some of my firsts. Without sounding like a braggart (too late, I’m sure), I have to admit, this job is one of the things I’m most proud of in my life. I have grabbed this medical monster by the tail and conquered it. Not bad for someone who didn’t go to any sort of medical school. The other girls I started out with? The other schedulers? Didn’t last. They couldn’t hack it and transferred to other departments.
I bought this scrub top for work – and then actually wore it.
Once.
I felt like a fool and won’t wear it again.
I do that. I get bored. Buy/wear something and then promptly regret it.
(I actually bought four pairs of reading glasses from Coastal.com. Why? Because they’re cheap, for one thing. And two, because they tend to change my look with very little effort on my part).
I mean. I wear scrubs to work every day. Basically, pajamas. Which on one hand – COMFY! On the other hand, they’re dangerous. Because we’re talking elastic waists and polyester, which easily expand to allow for expanding waistlines.
Overall, I LOVE wearing scrubs to work. The biggest reason is because I don’t have to rummage through my closet every day trying to figure out what to wear. My biggest challenge is choosing which color I’m going to wear that day and I only have three colors to choose from: Navy, Black and Pewter.
I HATE dressing up. I HATE trying to color coordinate my clothes then finally picking an outfit only to find out that it’s too tight because I ate one too many cookies the week before. Then I have to rummage further in my closet for an alternative which takes more time, frustrates me even more and makes me long for the days where I could eat what I wanted and not have to worry about adding an extra fleshy roll.
And then, there’s another 15 minutes trying to figure out what accessories to wear.
I spend my days in scrubs and my nights in t-shirts and sweats, or shorts if it’s summer time.
I’m so sexy.
I know Kevin probably gets sick to death of seeing me in lounge wear but honestly, if I’m comfortable, then I’m happy. And since we never go anywhere anyway …
I bought the Hello Kitty scrub top because I’m a child at heart. I’ve always loved Hello Kitty and I don’t know, I thought it was cute. It IS cute. But probably not appropriate attire for a nearly-50-year old woman.
Scrubs are not cheap. I wear cargo-style pants (which are super cute, are somewhat fitted and don’t look like something out of an MC Hammer video) and those suckers cost $30 bucks. Scrub tops are about $20 bucks a piece. I guess they figure you aren’t going to buy scrubs very often so they might as well gouge you while they have the chance.
I work with a gal who is a double zero ….. *pause* …… (just letting you soak that CRAZY fact for a minute). I kid you not, she’s a double zero. She’s TINY. Not just in size but she’s not very tall – I don’t think she’s even five feet tall. I call her my pocket MA … but I digress.
This poor girl has to have her scrubs ALTERED because even the smallest size is too big for her. So, not only does she have to pay about $50 bucks for a pair of scrubs, she in essence has to pay twice in order to get them altered to fit her teeny-tiny frame.
I guess that’s one advantage to being an Amazon – my size is pretty typical and completely average so I never have to worry about that sort of thing. My biggest challenge is finding pants that are long enough. But even that’s not that big of a deal anymore since they have tall sizes.
Since I wear scrubs all day every day, I like to mix things up with different hairstyles, earrings and shoes. My favorite hairstyle at the moment is the hairstyle in my profile pic in the right-hand column. And my favorite shoes at the moment are my uber-cool Sketchers – I blame my mom for this latest obsession. I saw her wearing a similar pair the other day and I HAD TO HAVE A PAIR. I’m currently on a mission to find the same style in blue. And they’re so comfortable! I don’t even feel like I’m wearing shoes, it feels like I’m walking barefoot.
My favorite brand of scrubs are Dickies, though WonderWinks are cute and comfy, too. I used to wear Cherokee, but they are boxy and tend to fit poorly, at least, in my opinion.
I won’t even tell you how much I’ve spent on scrubs in the three years I’ve been working for the hospital – it’s downright embarrassing. I buy everything online, so I’m never quite sure how something is going to fit. But I’m tossing the blame on to the people I work with because of the styles they wear – I had no idea there were so many CUTE scrub styles! Who knew!
Sometimes I miss dressing up for work. Who am I kidding – no I don’t.
The nurse I work with is a sweetheart. She truly is.
But … (you knew that was coming) …
She wears her heart on her sleeve. She’s highly emotional and she’s a stress crier. Which means, when things get stressful at work, and they often do because, hey, it’s healthcare, she cries. Which leaves me feeling helpless; I have no idea what to do for her or how to make her feel better. When you first meet her, one would think she’s flighty and a bit dingy. But actually, she’s quite smart and pretty sharp for only being 27.
SHE’S SO YOUNG.
She’s made some, erhm, bad choices in life. I won’t go into details, her story is not my story to tell, but she has a lot of … personal drama. And that’s exactly what I’ve always tried to avoid my entire life – I DON’T DO DRAMA.
But I can’t help getting sucked into her world because we work closely together and I have sort of taken her under my wing because did I mention SHE’S SO YOUNG?!?
I feel like I could be a positive influence in her life – teach her how to become emotionally strong and how to deal with, erhm, less-than-favorable people in her life.
She has two small children. Well, not small-small, but school-aged children. So, she’s a single mother who works damn hard and has to deal with being an every other weekend parent. I can’t imagine how tough that has to be for her. And her family doesn’t even live here, they live in Oklahoma, so she literally has no one she can turn to in town because her family is not here and all of her “friends” sort of disappeared when she divorced.
So even though this girl is 20 years my junior, I sort of committed to being her friend … sort of.
She’s on a mission to better her life and get a nursing/teaching job back in her hometown. That way, she can be close to family, she will be working the same hours her children are on in school, she gets a pretty good deal on housing and she’ll actually end up making a bit more money.
It’s a win-win.
But there are a few tests she has to take, and pass, before that can happen. I’ve been encouraging her to go for it because it would cruel NOT to. I can see how excited she is about the prospect of going home, she’s very close to her family, and honestly, there’s nothing here for her. But I told her that if something dreadful happens and she doesn’t pass her tests, I would be her BFF.
As soon as that offer came out of my mouth, I wanted to slap myself.
I’m a cold fish. I’m not a very good friend. Granted, I’m friendly enough and people seem to like to be around me because I make it a goal to make everyone around me laugh, at least once a day, but after work? I sort of want my time to do what I want to do. I’m selfish with my time. It’s okay, I can admit that because that’s the truth. And the last thing I want to subject myself, or my family to, is dealing with someone whose emotions are so near the surface and whose life is volatile even on the best of days. I’m not sure I have the patience for it, to be perfectly frank.
But if there’s one thing you can count on with me, whenever I make an offer, I stick to it. So if she needs me to be her new BFF until she can direct her life down a path she wants to take, I’ll be there for her.
But I really hope she’s able to pass her tests. For her sake, and for mine.
My doctor was overbooked today. Which meant we had about 30 patients today. Which meant I walked about three miles and sat and stood so much I looked like a (sweaty) Jack-in-the-box today.
It was all good though. I had gone into work last Friday afternoon (even though I had technically had the day off, I wanted to make sure we were ready for today’s clinic – I’m such a good little employee *snicker*) and I’m glad I did – the clinic seemed to go pretty smoothly today.
(I’d like to think it was because of me and my efforts, but who am I kidding).
At least, I think it went smoothly. We finished a little ahead of schedule and the PA gave me a fist bump, good job, sort of thing so I’m taking that as a good sign. (I think he likes me because I bust my butt to get him out of there. I get the feeling clinic is not his favorite part of his job – he’d rather be in the OR).
Nothing terrible weird happened today. Oh – we lost yet ANOTHER person. So now we’re two people down to being fully staffed and even though I’ve only been an MA for about two months now? I’m now considered a veteran.
How sad is that??
So. More fresh blood to mold and train. And I’ll be covering other doctors’ clinics until we’re back up to 100% capacity.
But I’m not complaining – more clinic time means less PIT time!
Ignore the picture – it’s years old. I’d update it, but the company would charge me $10 bucks and … screw it. I got promoted! Actually, it was either get promoted or get laid off.
I chose the promotion.
I never, in my wildest dreams, ever even considered being a medical assistant. I did throw around either a medical transcriptionist or a paralegal in my lifetime, but never a medical assistant.
But when you stumble on an opportunity you might as well grab hold and hang on for dear life.
And I assure you, I’m hanging on for dear life.
It all started with a staff meeting back in … February? (Wow – seems longer – WAY longer. Like YEARS ago ...).
We knew changes were coming down the pike, we just didn’t know how that was going to ultimately affect us.
I admit, I was pretty cocky. I was good at my job. My bosses loved me. My shit didn’t stink. I was secure and quite confident that whatever happened, they would always need schedulers. Right?
Uh. Not so much.
We learned, in that meeting, that the scheduling positions were being eliminated. And they were going to make the existing medical assistants start scheduling. And the existing schedulers had the choice of either getting on board with this plan, i.e. become medical assistants, or adios, don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.
I chose to stick around.
But after I got over my initial shock of NO LONGER HAVING A JOB, or at least, no longer having the job I’ve done for the past two years and am familiar/comfortable with, I started to get excited. Because I enjoy challenges. I enjoy stretching my abilities and adapting to new environments.
Alas. Not everyone felt the same way.
In fact, it’s safe to say there were two people who were ABSOLUTE BITCHES about the entire thing.
We will hereby dub them, “the mean girls.”
The head honcho over the clinic was pretty smart about this transition, if you want my opinion. First, he came up with the plan of converting the existing schedulers (i.e. me and two other girls – the fourth girl had already accepted a position at a different facility doing precertifications and BOY, I bet she thought she couldn’t have timed that move any better) into medical assistants, thereby effectively saving our jobs. And secondly, he gave us control over HOW we were going to redefine our jobs.
Sure. He could have simply come in and said, “this is how we’re doing things from now on – take it or lump it”, but he didn’t. He told us we had two goals: to come with ways 1. the nurses would be responsible for putting in the orders and 2. to bring our telephone scores up.
Apparently, the hospital employs an independent phone survey company to call patients and ask them a series of questions about how satisfied they are with our services. And the hospital does this to work on being a better facility for our patients AND to train employees to automatically give better service because good old O’bummerCare will only pay out depending on how satisfied the patients are with our service.
Assholes need not apply.
So. The meetings began. We got together, we brainstormed, we bitched, we came up with ideas, we bitched some more, and then we tried some our ideas out. It was a TRUE trial and error and It. Was. Not. Easy. But we stumbled through it and here’s what we came up with: we were each assigned to one doctor. (And I LOVE my doctor’s team, thank the good Lord above).
And we eliminated voicemail. We answer ALL calls live in what we “affectionately” call, THE PIT.
THE PIT is where everyone goes if we’re not in clinic with our doctors. And in THE PIT, everyone answers the calls as they come in and tries to help the patients with whatever needs they’re calling in for. And most times, we CAN help them. Patients have questions about post-op restrictions, or they want to reschedule, or they want a refill on their prescriptions (which I can now take care of providing I get permission from the doctor/nurse to do so – I can’t just make that call).
Patients love it. However – I. HATE. IT. WITH. EVERY. FIBER. OF. MY. BEING.
But I don’t like answering the phones anyway. Ever. I’ve always hated talking on the phone. But since patients love it and management is getting less complaints about phone calls not being returned, it’s not going away any time soon. I guess I’ll deal with it.
Two of the gals that have been with the clinic for years (like 19 years!!) got so fed up with the changes and couldn’t accept that they were now going to be expected to actually WORK for their paychecks (they would do their jobs, but when the last patient had been seen for the day, they would literally spend the last few hours of the day goofing off or updating their Facebook statuses on their phones (because sites like Facebook, Twitter, YouTube, etc. are blocked at work).
So. They quit. In fact, one was ASKED to go home and never return because she was such a diva/princess personality that she thought it was totally acceptable to leave the clinic for hours but only make it look like she had only been gone for a short time and have someone clock her in/out. Which we ALL KNOW is stealing time from your employer and a huge no-no.
But honestly, few tears were shed because they were the mean girls who were bringing everyone else down and just being difficult overall and now that they’re gone? We’re ALL happier. So it actually worked out for the best, to be honest.
We have not had formal training. I was a bit surprised that we weren’t required to take classes in order to become medical assistants. We were shown how to take someone’s blood pressure and how to start office notes and obtain pertinent medical information for the doctor but only on established patients – the doctor obtains all of that information on new patients. We will take CPR classes eventually, but since we’re surrounded by nurses and PA’s I guess my boss doesn’t think that’s a high priority right now. It’s not a hard job, but it’s a physically demanding job as I’m on my feet all day when I’m in clinic. I’ve been wearing a pedometer, just out of curiosity, and I’m walking, on average, three miles on the two days I’m in clinic. I’m not complaining – it’s NICE to not sit on my butt all day long anymore.
We have the option of taking the certified medical assistant test after two years of experience. We will then get a substantial raise and be able to do more than we’re doing now. I’m totally doing that – providing I’m around in two years. I have mixed feelings about taking the test. On one hand, if I’m around for that long, why wouldn’t I take the test and make more money?? But then again, if I invest the time and money (it’s about $100 to take the test), why would I quit and go somewhere else? So it’s almost like, if I take the test, then I’ll feel a bit trapped into being a medical assistant for the rest of my life.
I hate being locked into something like that, especially since I never really saw myself making a career out of the medical field to begin with, but those are the cards I’ve been dealt and to be honest, I enjoy what I’m doing and I’m good at what I do so … why not??
I have no interest in becoming a nurse. (Though don’t quote me on that – again – I never, EVER saw myself doing what I’m doing now). I highly doubt I ever do anything more than what I’m doing now. It’s sort of a nice mix of having responsibility, but not having THAT much responsibility. The nurse’s have A LOT of responsibility and quite honestly, I’m not sure I’m passionate enough about the industry to commit to anything more than what I’m doing now.
Here’s what my week looks like now:
Monday/Wednesday – CLINIC DAY: Get to work at 7:15 a.m. and start office notes for the patients that are coming in to see my doctor that day. Turn the lights on in our five exam rooms, pull fresh paper over the exam tables and boot up the computers and open up the medical records program. Print off four copies of the day’s schedule – one for me, the nurse, the PA and the doctor. I highlight all of the new patients on the doctor’s copy as he’ll be responsible for interviewing the new patients, diagnosing them and ordering further testing for them.
I then start calling the patients back that are in the waiting room. I weigh the patients, show them to an exam room, ask them questions about their pain (if they’ve been seen before), and take their blood pressures. Then I put the number of the exam room on their super bills, place their charts in the appropriate place (the PA sees first post-op appointment patients) and then go out and call another patient back to another exam room. I’m responsible for making sure the exam rooms are full at all times. And when the doctor, or the PA, are finished with the patient, then I schedule them for whatever is recommended, (if I have time – sometimes we move so fast I don’t have time to do that), and show them out of the clinic. If I get tied up with a patient (and there’s a certain “art” in keeping patients on track because I have one of those “tell me your life stories” faces), then the nurse and the PA step up and show patients back to rooms, providing they have time. The nurses are responsible for setting up surgeries by educating the patient on what to expect and calling the hospital to put them on the surgery schedules.
I also answer phone calls and pages for the nurses if they aren’t available to take calls when we’re in clinic. This includes the physician’s line, which is a dedicated cell phone JUST for physicians to call each other on. When that sucker rings, my heart drops to my feet because I know it’s another doctor wanting to speak to my doctor. It’s sort of an intimidating conversation, truth be known.
After the last patient has been shown out of the clinic for the day, (and our clinic days usually run between 25 – 32 people), I don a pair of surgical gloves, take a few packets of disinfectant into the rooms and thoroughly wipe them down. I then spray some clinical disinfectant in the rooms to make them smell nice once more. (People are truly stinky when they go to the doctor).
I usually have about an hour, to an hour and a half left of my day and I then go through my flags, return phone calls and go through the clinic to schedule the patients that either I didn’t have time to schedule while they were in clinic, or patients I didn’t see before they left the clinic.
Tuesday/Thursday/Friday – PIT DAYS: Yuk. These are my least favorite days, though they are ultimately more relaxing than clinic days. I have a “station”, in the old nursing area (which poor nurses, they don’t have a home now that we’ve gone through this transition and they use their doctor’s offices to work out of now) that I use as my working space. I put on a pair of headphones and answer calls as they come in. (Whenever someone calls, ALL of our phones rings, so the entire day phones are ringing in stereo and whoever is free to answer the phone, does so). In between phone calls, I answer flags (which is an interoffice message system between us and the nurses), return phone calls and schedule appointments. I also go through upcoming clinics to make sure the patients have done the testing that was recommended at the last visit and make sure the films from those tests are on our system for the doctor to pull up and look at when the patients arrive for clinic. If patients didn’t have their testing done, for whatever reason, then I call the patient and reschedule their testing and often times, their appointment with the doctor because nothing is more frustrating to the patient and the doctor for a patient to return and not have done what they needed to have done before coming back. It’s a waste of time and money for all concerned and it makes the doctors quite cranky.
Because the phones can get overwhelming at times and because the pit can be quite overstimulating with the phones ringing and everyone talking at once, we have instigated “quite time” where we go out to the old scheduling desks for an hour to clear our heads and get some stuff done we don’t otherwise have time to do in between phone calls on high volume days. (Mondays and Thursdays are the WORST in the pit). That quiet time is a GOD send sometimes, trust me.
Fridays, since we’re all in the pit together, it’s not so bad because we have more of us answering calls and we end up answering less calls because of the extra man power. We also restock the exam rooms and make sure they’re ready to go for another crazy week of clinics.
I also do one outlying clinic a month in Carthage. I pack up the van with our laptops and equipment. The receptionist that goes with us packs up all the paperwork and whatnot, and then I drive the van (because they elected me to drive – *GULP*) to the hospital where we pick up the doctor and the PA after they’ve done their rounds, and then the PA (thank God) drives us to Carthage. Me and the nurse unpack the laptops, set them up in the rooms, the receptionist checks the waiting patients in and BOOM, off I go again, rooming patients, asking them questions, getting their weight and blood pressures and setting the pace for the clinic.
The first few weeks of doing my “new job” were exhausting, to say the least. Not only because I was learning new duties, but the emotional stress of trying to keep everything straight for the doctors was mentally challenging. I came home DEAD TIRED. But I’ve been doing this for a few months now and I think I’m getting the hang of it – at least – I haven’t heard any “constructive criticism” in a while so I’m ASSUMING everything is going along smoothly.
I’m still tired when I get home, but it’s a good tired – I feel like I’m really making a difference in people’s lives and have gotten to know quite a few “repeat” patients. It’s honestly a very rewarding job and I’m having fun with it.
I suppose that’s all anyone can ask for in a job. That, and more money … but that’s not happening any time soon so … *sigh*
But there are a few tests she has to take, and pass, before that can happen. I’ve been encouraging her to go for it because it would cruel NOT to. I can see how excited she is about the prospect of going home, she’s very close to her family, and honestly, there’s nothing here for her. But I told her that if something dreadful happens and she doesn’t pass her tests, I would be her BFF.
Write From Karen 