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I can honestly say, these past three months have been the most exhausting, frustrating, rewarding and fulfilling months in my life. Well, maybe not my life, but they certainly rank in the top five.

1. We moved offices.

It was a confusing, whirlwind mass of chaotic activity. We all knew we were going to move to our new office at the hospital, it was inevitable, but we were told it wouldn’t be until closer to Thanksgiving, so though we knew we were moving, we weren’t really PSYCHED to move. Suddenly, our new office was done and the CEO of the company didn’t see the need to delay the inevitable so we got the green light to move.

It wasn’t a slow, organized move, it was a crazy, throw everything in boxes and load up our cars move.

We moved on a Friday but we didn’t close up shop to move. It was business as usual and we packed our crap up in between patient phone calls. Each team was allotted about two hours to pack our crap, load it up and drop it off at the new office. Then, once the phones shut off at 4:30, we all went into frenzy mode and moved the rest of our stuff. We unloaded just the stuff we knew we would need for clinic on Monday and the rest stayed in boxes.

It was a crazy, disorganized but sort of fun time. And we survived our first clinic in our new place. My doctor was pretty patient, (what choice did he have?) and when we explained the situation to the patients, they were pretty understanding and patient, too. (Again, what choice did they have?)

I love this office. I truly do. It’s spacious and still has that NEW smell. We’re located on the 7th floor and we have a spectacular view of the city. We are the only specialty on our floor so we have the place to ourselves. I’m proud to work here. I know it’s impressive and people are impressed when they get to us.

We’ve had issues. We’ve had doors that wouldn’t open and doors that opened so fast that they were seriously a hazard to anyone within slapping distance. We have been unable to locate light switches and we still have problems with light-motion sensors that are too sensitive and often shut off leaving us in the dark and either having to wave our arms to bring the lights back on or we have to work in the dark until we physically get up to turn the damn things on again.

The toilets flush so loudly they are seriously damaging our eardrums and everyone has to hold their ears when they go off to protect ourselves. At least we won’t have to worry overly much about clogging them as I’m pretty sure they have so much suction they would suck a small child down the pipes if given the chance.

Our docs don’t have offices. Instead, we have collaboration spaces within each “pod.” We have five pods total. In fact, I’m using a collaboration space right now to write this. (More on that later). These collab spaces are intended to allow the physicians to sort of disappear whenever they need a break or want someplace private to eat their lunch. These collab spaces also double as meeting rooms or in my case, study spaces. Since the doctors are only in the clinic two times a week, they are in surgery the rest of the week, they didn’t see the need to have permanent spaces for temporary occupancy.

We’ve been in our space now for three months. Three months, in some ways, it feels a lot longer. We still don’t have enough stools to sit on in the exam rooms and supplies to supply 55 exam rooms. (Each pod has five exam rooms each – we also have one large procedure room in case the doctors need to treat wounds or more complicated issues). For several weeks, we didn’t have enough scales and we had to routinely share and move scales around in order to work our clinics.

Even though we are the only specialty on our floor, we still have room to grow. The front part of our floor is undeveloped and locked off. I have no idea what the hospital plans on doing with this undeveloped space and can only guess that it’s intended to add on more doctors, but we’ll see. So that’s exciting, knowing that at some point, there are likely more changes in our future.

If you can count on anything in business, it’s change.

Let me see if I can explain this set up for you …

When you get off the elevators, you can only go one way and that way is to a centralized podium. The person at the podium then “blues” you in on the schedule so that people like me will know you’re on the floor. The podium person will then direct you to the pod where your doctor is located. I work out of pod 5. Patients will then settle into our waiting room and wait for me to call them back to a room where I start their charts and get their vitals.

On Wednesdays, we share the waiting room with another doctor and last week it was so crowded it was literally standing room only. It’s so weird how the patient flow works out – we will be an hour ahead of schedule and suddenly, we have an influx of patients and we’re an hour behind.

I think this week, I’m going to ask my doctor if he would mind if we used the main waiting area – the area that people see when they first get off the elevators. It’s just too confusing for patients and awkward for me to try and keep track of everyone.

I’m all about efficiency. In fact, I’ve sort of developed a reputation for being “on top of it.” I probably over plan clinics but in my mind, a little preparation goes A LONG WAY towards a more organized clinic. In fact, I’m pretty sure my doctor has come to expect this preparation from me now so there is no way I would NOT plan my clinics, I wouldn’t want to disappoint him.

Which leads me to the second big work change ..

2. We finally switched over to the hospital charting software program in August.

The hospital has been “warning” us for years this change was going to happen so it’s not surprising that it happened once we moved onto the hospital campus.

We spent weeks staying after work transferring people over on to the new schedule program and into the new charting system. It was exhausting but it allowed us to make extra money and to familiarize ourselves with the new program so that ultimately, we taught ourselves how to get around it faster than if we hadn’t stayed to do data entry.

The first week we went live, we had software representatives available for questions. Which sounds awesome on the surface, but wasn’t really awesome in reality. Though they knew their way around the program, they were unfamiliar with our specialty and our specific needs. I can’t tell you the number of times I heard, “well, this is the way it’s supposed to work, but the feature is not working now.” After a time, they were just in the way and became super annoying to have around.

You could FEEL the tension emanating off our bodies that first week we went live. IT. WAS. FRUSTRATING. to say the least. And it’s still frustrating to this day. It’s hard to find anything, let alone quickly. Everything is filed into folders, each doc has a folder, I have a folder for all of the documents I put into the patient’s chart, every type of document has a folder, days have folders, it’s pretty insane, quite frankly.

And the programs, the charting program and the scheduling programs, are GLITCHY. Things will disappear, or we get error messages, or the program will just shut down. And our servers SUCK. They are SO SLOW. In fact, these programs are SO glitchy and slow that our ER finally put their foot down and refused to use it. They use something different.

It’s not unusual for me to completely shut down my computer, several times a day because it just locks up.

AARGH.

I think our docs had the most trouble with the program. They were definitely not set up the way our physicians wanted them to be set up and we’re constantly coming up with ways to get around restrictions. The hospital will likely figure out some of the workarounds we’re doing but that’s the only way our physicians can get their work done so I’m sure the hospital, at some point, will no choice but to make those changes. In the interim, we make do.

So. We moved on July 17th and went to a new software system one month later.

I was working 60 hour weeks for WEEKS during this process. I’m just NOW getting to a point where I’m now going home at 6:00 instead of 8:00. I haven’t seen my family in three months. Truly, I haven’t been home to have dinner with Kevin or the boys, during the week, in three months. I haven’t had time to stop. It’s been crazy.

Some of that crazy came from our phones.

3. We FINALLY went back to voicemails.

Some knucklehead had the bright idea that answering all of our calls live was the way to go. And for a while, it seemed to work. We answered live calls and did our best to help the patient with his/her questions/requests. But after a while, that’s ALL we did. Let me break it down for you.

Monday – I was in clinic. So I didn’t answer calls. I focused primarily on making sure the clinic ran smoothly.

Tuesday – I needed to schedule the Monday clinic patients for testing, but I didn’t have time to do that because I was in the pit answering live calls. So, I was taking calls for other doctor patients who had to tell their stories, from the beginning, to me because I was not familiar with their background. And then, being on a new system, it look three times as long to look anything up because we couldn’t find the damn information. AND/OR we had (still have to) access our old system – so in essence, we were working out of four systems, our old charting/scheduling programs and our new charting/scheduling programs. And when you answered live calls, you had to stop what you were doing before the call, to take the call, and when you hung up, you didn’t have time to start your own work because the damn phone would instantly ring.

Can you tell I LOATHE the phones??

Wednesday – I’m back in clinic. And I haven’t had a chance to touch my Monday clinic.

Thursday/Friday – I’m back on the damn phones. And again, I do not have a chance to get my clinic work done because I”m now forced to take care of patients for all of the docs. So the ONLY time I had a chance to clean up my week’s clinics AND prepare for my upcoming clinics, was after hours.

It was an insane process.

And to top it off, I started having chest pains. I don’t know if it was because I was under so much stress and working 60 hours weeks, or if it due to gas from starting to take Coconut supplements, or maybe a combination of both, but I ended up in the ER one night.

I was working clinic on a Wednesday and I just couldn’t breathe. I felt like I had to continuously take large breaths in order to function. I made several trips to the restroom just so I could pause, close my eyes and force my body to settle down. I took my blood pressure and it was way high. And my heart rate was over 100. I had chest pain but no arm/jaw pain so I really didn’t think I was having a heart attack but something was OFF.

Then that night, I just couldn’t sleep. My heart was racing double time and I was laying down!! I started hyperventilating and text Kevin (because he was at band practice) and he rushed home and took me to the ER. They hooked me up to an EKG machine and luckily, I wasn’t have a heart attack. They put me into a room and gave me liquid Ativan. Liquid GOLD, I say. That calmed me right down and my blood pressure went back down to normal. They didn’t give me an explanation for my crazy, but I’m pretty sure I had a panic attack. I think the pressure just got to me and I snapped.

I haven’t had an attack since then. I’ve adapted and learned to cope with this stress.

We had another person in the office break out into a rash because of the stress. When the director of our department found out about our physical manifestations to all of this stress, he put his foot down – it was time for changes.

We narrowed down that the phone situation just wasn’t working for us. So, we called our communications department in and they set it up so that each doctor has a voicemail now. Now, I can get to phones on MY time. And I’m already familiar with my doctor’s patients so that cuts down on response time. And I can return phone calls all at once so it’s way more efficient for everyone.

We’ve been back on voicemails for several weeks now and everyone is WAY more relaxed. We have time to BREATHE. We can all go to lunch together, if we want. We’re more in control of our processes and time. And that has left more time for me to pursue my next goal …

4. I’m studying for my CMA test

The CMA test is the Certified Medical Assistant test. The hospital has put together a pretty sweet incentive package for the medical assistants to become certified. It’s better for us, for the doctors and of course, for the hospital. So that has motivated all of us to study for the thing. A few of use have been staying late, or coming in on the weekend (like today – but I’m writing to you instead because I was feeling it today), to prepare for this. It costs $150 dollars to take the 3 hours test so I’m also motivated to take this pretty seriously because I don’t want to blow $150.

I’ve purchased study materials and I plan on purchasing a practice test so that I can focus my studies on the sections that will be on the test. I’ve only really been studying seriously for the past several weeks and I already feel like I’ve learned a lot. It’s stressful though – I feel like I’m cramming four years of medical school into about six weeks. I’m not going to tell you, or anyone I work with, the actual date I plan on taking this test, that way, if I fail, no harm, no foul. My goal is to just announce to everyone that I passed. If I told everyone my plans, took the test and then failed, I’m pretty sure I would be too mortified to show my face again. Everyone is wanting to go take it on the same day, but I simply can’t do that – I will be a bundle of nerves anyway, let alone taking the test with a bunch of people I work with.

The hospital is not only offering a bonus for becoming certified, but they’re also offering an hourly pay increase. And it’s a pretty sweet jump, let me tell ya.

So yes. I’m focusing my energies onto passing this thing now. I’ve been staying after work not only to finish my work, but on collaborating with my fellow co-workers on studying for the CMA.

I’m looking forward to the day when things get back to normal. Our entire worlds, and not just working worlds, but personal worlds, have been turned upside down these past several months.

But then I’ll have continuing education requirements after I pass the CMA in order to KEEP my CMA status.

It just never ends, does it.

We got our new jackets on Friday – don’t they look snazzy?! I’m SO BLESSED to work with such incredible people!!

Work is going well. I continue to work my ass off but I’m starting to feel more and more comfortable with what I’m doing. There are moments when I feel like I’m sort of flying by the seat of my pants and thank goodness I think quick on my feet and can ooze fake confidence when I need to, but for the most part, I’m settling into the medical assistant position.

I’ve been a medical assistant for a little over one year now. That sort of blows my mind when I stop to think about it. I honestly feel like I still just stumbled into this gig and I’m BSing my way through every clinic. I’m confident on the phones and handling the scheduling part of the job, of course, but the actual medical part of this job still sort of scares me a little bit.

I guess I’m going to stick this out. I had thought, at one time, I might just hang it up and move on to something else, but this past year, though terribly challenging, and continues to challenge me every day, has been one of the most rewarding years in my life. There’s something deeply satisfying helping people and it’s such an HONOR to work with some of the top 1% of the doctors in the country!

I’m pretty sure this is my last job. I will likely retire from the medical field. Which is so crazy for me. I never, once, in my whole life, aspired to be in the medical field. I wanted to be a writer, a paralegal, or a medical transcriptionist, which true, is in the medical field, but more on the outskirts of the medical field, not in the trenches actually interacting with patients.

And yet, here I am.

I have spent hundreds of dollars on scrubs. When I started as a scheduler, we wore a different color each day of the week. So I spent $200 just on that my first week of work. Now that I’m a medical assistant, our colors have changed again – navy, black and gray. And I have added on to my scrub collection as I’ve gone along because I get bored with one brand, I find something just a little cute/different and/or the fit is unflattering that I can’t force myself to wear them anymore.

Scrubs are NOT cheap. I just recently bought another scrub “outfit” for just under $70.

One scrub top. One scrub bottom.

So. There’s that investment.

And now I’m getting ready to spend another $150 in order to become certified. And another $50 bucks to purchase the study guide and an online test so that I can prepare for this certification process. BUT. If/when I do this, I will automatically receive a $1 raise which means I will have paid for my investment in three weeks and ultimately make more money.

Not to mention, being certified carries more responsibility and more opportunities.

And I’m motivated to do this because the government has implemented yet more strangling meaningful use policies and I’m no longer able to do a few tasks like I used to be able to do. However, I can do these tasks if I’m certified. So OF COURSE, I have to become certified because nothing frustrates me more than NOT being to do something or do my job to my maximum ability.

I will learn everything there is to know about being a medical assistant. I honestly have no intention of going any further than this, at this point. But if you’ve been reading my blog for any length of time, you know I have an uncanny knack for sort of falling into things so who knows where I’ll be five years from now.

I never imagined I would be where I am now five years ago.

As far as the people … my nurse still drives me nuts – in fact, there are days I would gladly punch her in the face. But she’s sweet and funny and we’re all getting used to her, I suppose. Her personality is just so ABRASIVE! AARGH! And everything about her rubs me like sandpaper, her tone of voice, the way she treats patients, the way she has to include herself in EVERY SINGLE CONVERSATION THAT GOES ON AROUND HER, whether she’s included or not, her obsession with food, her butt crack. Yes, her butt crack. She was a size smaller when she came to us from the hospital but she refuses to allow herself to buy bigger pants, so she wears these tight t-shirts and low-waisted scrub pants and when she bends over – HELLO MOON. Our nurse manager actually came by her one day, yanked down her t-shirt and whispered in her ear loud enough for me to hear, “your butt crack is showing again.” AAARGH She’s just so immature and self absorbed … drives me nuts.

However. I don’t see her going anywhere any time soon so I guess I just need to suck it up. I’ve worked with my doctor for over a year now and I’m the “veteran” on the team since his nurse started with him in October and his PA started with him this past January. Even though I’ve worked with him over a year now, I still feel pretty shy around him. We’re both loosening up around each other now and I am starting to see a lot more of his personality. I’m VERY FORTUNATE to work with a laid back, easy-going doctor. He rarely loses his temper (in fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him lose his temper), but you can tell when he’s annoyed. I just try and make his clinics run as smooth as possible, even if that means I make other people in the clinic mad at me because I INSIST they do their jobs.

Go figure.

We’re supposed to be moving into our new home in July. The hospital is adding onto the main building and neurosurgery will be taking over the 7th floor. My doctor was on the planning board for this move so he views it as his baby. I’m really looking forward to moving to our new digs. Not only will it be “new”, it will be next to the hospital and Kevin and I are already planning on meeting in the hospital cafeteria for lunch. (They actually have pretty good food for cheap). Parking will be a challenge as it’s already a challenge at the hospital as it is now, let alone when our clinic starts going over there every day, but we’ll find our new normal, we’ll just have to endure the speed bumps along the way.

The building we’re in now is embarrassing. It’s so old and ever since the announcement was made that we would be moving to the hospital, there has been very little motivation to fix or maintain our building and it’s starting to show a lot of wear and tear.

Oh. That reminds me of a story.

Our air conditioner went out – again. Our air conditioner goes out about every other month, it’s so annoying. So our HVAC guys showed up to take a look at it and found that the wires had been yanked out. Apparently, some homeless guy was living in the area, (the area is enclosed by a privacy fence) and he had cut out all of the copper wiring presumably to sell it. This is what happens when you have a crappy economy and more and more people are out of work – desperate times call for desperate measures.

There is now a lock on the fenced-in area. (There probably should have been a lock on it to begin with but you don’t think about things like this until they happen).

There are always weird situations that crop up in this business, but the latest weirdness happened a few weeks ago. A nine-year old boy came into the clinic for scoliosis. Though I’m not sure how the referring doctor came up with this diagnosis considering there were no films on file to show he had scoliosis. The boy’s guardian was his grandmother, who couldn’t read. So the boy’s mother came with them, but could barely read herself. So getting someone to fill out paperwork was a challenge.

When I approached the front desk to get the boy’s chart and show him back to a room, one of the girls pulled me aside and told me that the boy had gone into the mens’ bathroom and pooped on the floor. Why he didn’t poop in the toilet, I don’t know. (I found out later that the nine-year old boy still wore pull-ups. Not because he couldn’t control his bladder/bowels, but because his guardians were tired of dealing with his rebellious I will poop and pee whenever and wherever I please attitude). When I called the boy back, the mother started to stand and told the grandmother she was to stay in the waiting room. I nixed that suggestion in the bud.

“Is she the boy’s guardian?” I asked.

When the mother quietly nodded, (I can be quite intimidating when I need to be), I shook my head and said, “she will have to come back with him since she’s the guardian.” (It’s a legal issue).

In addition to the boy, the boy’s little sister came back, too. They were both the wildest children I’ve ever been around. They talked a mile a minute and they would not sit still. I had to get the pediatric cuff in order to take his blood pressure and I had to get firm with him because he wouldn’t sit still. When my doctor’s PA went in there next, (she interviews new patients first before the doctor goes in), I heard her raise her voice a few times telling the boy to sit down and be quiet. And when my doctor finally went in there, he was in there for two minutes, (because there was nothing he could do for the boy since we didn’t have any films on him – he’s a doctor, not an xray machine), the little boy followed him out and looked at my doctor like he was a god or something. I’m sure the boy didn’t have a male role model in his life judging from the way he was following my doctor around like a little lost puppy.

In addition to being sad, the whole situation was pretty disgusting, too. They were Medicaid and though I’m trying very hard not to judge people who have Medicaid, more often than not, they are people who were referred to our clinic without a proper workup and it’s a waste of everyone’s time and money simply because the boy’s primary care physician didn’t fully do his/her job. I’m assuming the boy’s PCP simply referred him to our office to get the boy out of his hair.

It’s a terrible abuse of our Medicaid system.

I could go on and on with examples, I don’t want to sound too preachy or judgy, but just know, there’s a REASON why Medicaid patients are cast into a stereotypical mold, because many act exactly the way we expect them to. It’s very sad, to be honest.

Our nurse manager is moving on to another position. We’re all pretty shaken by this news. She’s AWESOME and she will be SORELY missed but we can’t fault her for wanting to further her career. In the meantime, management has formed two committees, (sounds like something management would do, lol) in order to help interview her replacement. I didn’t volunteer for the position, I wasn’t sure I wanted to put myself in that situation, but when they came to me and asked me to participate I couldn’t really say no. This is going to be doubly challenging considering we’re getting ready to move and we won’t really have a “captain” to guide us.

I have a feeling this summer is going to be crazy busy for us.

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.

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’m the last scheduler standing.

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 one 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.

I really don’t want a friend.

I really don’t need a friend.

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!

Anything but THE PIT. *shudder*

Ignore the picture – it’s years old. I’d update it, but the company would charge me $10 bucks and … screw it.

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*

I’m hoping this will be my last day.

Not with this company, (though there are days … moments … seconds that that doesn’t cross my mind), but at my desk.

Since I sit at the first desk that patients come to as they’re exiting the clinic area, I naturally help the most patients. On a four doctor day, it’s not unusual for me to help 30 patients ON TOP of the 15 voicemails I receive and the 15 flags I receive from the doctors’ nurses that I’m responsible for taking care of as well.

I’m currently responsible for 3 doctors- it’s overwhelming. I can’t maintain this pace indefinitely and I’ve expressed my … frustrations to my management.

It wasn’t until recently that I felt like a light bulb went off in their heads and they finally understood what I’ve been telling them for the past month.

So. We had yet another meeting yesterday (*sigh*) and today should, SHOULD, be the last day I’m at this desk. And we have three doctors today. So I will still end the day more behind than when I started it.

But. I will be sitting in the peach pit tomorrow (i.e. Triage area) answering calls and training the other MA’s to do the job that me and the other schedulers have been doing, and they will train me, and the other schedulers, MA duties.

Then next week, I will either be with a doctor or in the peach pit.

I will be kissing my desk, and my old job, goodbye.

At least, that’s the plan.

Let’s hope we all stick to the plan.

A girl I work has to wear a mask to work everyday – at least, until the CDC (Center for Disease Control) deems “flu season” over.

She’s allergic to the flu shot, which means she’s exempt from having to have it. I’d say lucky girl, but I wouldn’t want to have to wear a mask every day. That would royally suck rocks.

And it does for her. She hates it. In fact, she’s cashing in some of her vacation time so she can give herself a break from the dreaded mask until the “flu season” is over.

I put “flu season” in quotation marks because I distrust the CDC perhaps even more so than I distrust our government and ya’ll KNOW how much I LOATHE our government, especially right now. I think this whole “flu season” fiasco is just a scam to wring more money out of people by making them get injected with God knows what sort of drugs to line the drug companies pockets with cash.

And to top off my angry sundae, it’s perfectly legal, in the state of Missouri, to MAKE employees get the flu shot whether they want it or not. All under the guise of protecting patients and other employees.

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not against protecting patients, especially the patients that have weak immune systems anyway, of course not, I’m not a monster, however, I’m not completely convinced, actually, I’m not convinced AT ALL, that the flu shot, in any way, deters the flu. Do you know how many strains of flu there are?

Exactly.

The odds of actually getting a vaccine for the type of strain that happens to cross your immune system in the year you happen to have God knows what injected into you is slim at best.

And if you’re honest with me, and yourself, you know I’m right. How many times have you heard people, express in genuine disbelief mind you, how surprised and shocked they are they actually came down with the flu after receiving a flu shot.

“But I don’t understand,” they whine while coughing up a lung and sneezing the tops of their heads off, “I GOT the flu shot. Why am I sick?“

Indeed. That’s the BILLION dollar question, isn’t it.

This flu shot thing is a deal breaker for me. The first year they made it mandatory that we either get the flu shot or lose our job, I sat down with Kevin and we seriously discussed my next step. I wanted to quit. I almost quit. I still want to quit. But (and there’s always a but, isn’t there), since Kevin is self-employed, that leaves it up to me to provide my family with health insurance.

And quite honestly, we can’t afford to be without it now – not just because we’re gambling on the fact that none of us either get sick or have an accident, but because we’re now required to pay a penalty if we don’t have it.

Anyway. I’ve bitched and moaned about this topic for years now – it’s old news – you know how I feel about it. Blah-blah-blah.

I’m bringing this up now because we’re now in “flu season” and I mentioned to Kevin the other day that if the CDC felt like the bottom line was too low and needed to up their profits, they may decide to declare a “pandemic” (remember H1N1?) and if that happens, I’ll once again be REQUIRED to get another bogus injection full of poisons.

Is this job really worth that? What if the long-term repercussions is Alzheimer’s? Or Dementia? Or something else just as bad?

No job is worth my health.

It’s time to get serious about a new job again. I can’t make the change over night – it will take time to ease my way out. I hate to brag (*ahem*) but my co-workers rely on me. I even have my manager coming up to me asking for advice on things now.

Whoa. Super flattering but also super stressful. I’ve become the poster child for scheduling, I guess.

I’m not taking this lightly – I’m very grateful for my job and I truly love the people I work with, but I can’t stick around and continue to participate in something I feel very strongly against.

So. What to do? I can’t quit without another job lined up for my family’s sake. And I would never walk out on the other girls – I couldn’t forgive myself. So it’s time to suck it up and start building my portfolio again. And I have my eye on one particular company that I think I would be a shoe-in for, AND, I’m my college degree is my ticket in the door. But they won’t take a serious look at me until I can show them what I can do. I have a few ideas on how I can do that – it’s just finding the time to do it. I’ll need to take screen shots from the programs I use at work. And I think I can do that as long as I use the dummy account they’ve created for training purposes. Obviously, I have to be very careful not to violate anyone’s privacy.

That would be bad. Very bad – especially with all the strict HIPPA laws in place. (Which is actually a good thing – people need their privacy protected – too bad the government doesn’t agree with that, but whatev).

Wow. I hadn’t planned on writing this much. I just wanted to mention that I feel sorry for my co-worker for having to wear a surgical mask all day. I don’t know how she doesn’t run screaming from the clinic tearing her hair out. But this issue is never far from my mind and I guess I needed to purge my frustrations. I sort of feel trapped and I resent the fact that the company has taken one of my choices away from me – but I need to stop complaining about it and take steps to do something about it.

It’s time to be pro-active.

(I need to bookmark this post and refer back to it from time-to-time to keep myself motivated to move forward with this get-a-new-job thing. It’s just soooo much easier to stay put and keep doing what I’m doing. Change is hard, doing nothing is easy).

By the by, we drove by the hospital yesterday and noticed that the construction guys are finally building up the foundation. We saw several concrete pillars, I think we’re finally making progress on the tower. (The’re building a tower onto the main hospital and my doctors will be moving their practice to that tower – I’d like to stick around at least that long and make the move because HOW COOL IS THAT?!? A brand-spanking new office. Sweet!)

This notice was in our daily bulletin at work today:

Mandatory Healthcare Reform fees
From Human Resources: All employees participating in our health plan will see new federal fees deducted from their paychecks starting Jan. 3. The healthcare reform law (Affordable Care Act – aka OBAMACARE) [added because I'm PISSED OFF] requires all employers to collect fees on all health plan participants. This new fee is known the Transitional Reinsurance Program fee. Beginning in 2014, the new Transitional Reinsurance Fee will be shown as a line item deduction titled “FedIns1,” and will be deducted from the first check of every month. The fee is $5.25 per month for each family member covered by your health plan. This fee is in addition to normal premiums for our health plan and is scheduled by the federal government to end in 2017. It is intended to provide additional funding for the new Federal Healthcare Exchange to cover costs of people with serious, previously untreated health conditions who have previously been uninsured.

And it begins – the first of the “fees” that are now being taken out of my paycheck – that’s $42.00 PER MONTH. And if you think it’s going to stop there, just wait until government tries to “fix” it by adding in more fees “for the common good.” It’s not for my family’s good, asswipe …

I get up at 6:00 a.m. every morning, I work 40 hours a week for barely over minimum wage (I made more at Wal-Mart – shocked? Go figure). I have TONS of stress trying to help people who are in serious pain and need serious help. I’m making sacrifices, I’m doing everything right, I’m keeping my family off the government welfare system, I’m being RESPONSIBLE for me and my family and I pay taxes. I don’t like it. I think we pay WAY TOO MANY TAXES, but I can live with it, somewhat, because again, I’M RESPONSIBLE and it’s RESPONSIBLE to help pay for roads, firefighters, police, etc.

But I’m NOT okay paying for something I didn’t vote for, that the majority of Americans are against, for people who know how to milk the system.

Here’s an idea – brace yourself because it’s a pretty crazy idea, how about instigating programs that help people OUT of their dire straits and not steal (yes, STEAL) money from hard-working people that goes to SUPPORT people who may begin in dire straits but then figure, to hell with it, sucking off the government’s teat is WAY easier than actually working.

Working is hard – mooching is easy.

And before you even think to say, “Calm down, Karen. It’s only $20 bucks” I’m going to say, twenty bucks here, another ten bucks there and before you know it, I’m working FOR the government. Where, exactly, does that leave me and my family again?

When, exactly, do we draw the line and say enough is enough?!

Son of a BITCH. I DESPISE this administration.

AARGH!!!!

I’ve been trying something new – I’m trying to …

Make your first meal the biggest and your last meal the smallest. Eat breakfast like a king, lunch like a prince and dinner like a college kid with a maxed out charge card.

Because I get tired of eating a big dinner, then sitting around either reading or watching TV, then going to bed and feeling like a whale in muddy water – fat and sluggish.

So. Even though I have NO APPETITE in the morning (never have, really), I force myself to eat two scrambled eggs and a buttered bagel and then drink some orange juice every morning.

Sometimes I shake things up and eat a bowl of oatmeal instead of eggs. Then I usually take leftovers from the previous night’s dinner for lunch and eat really late (like around 2:30ish in the afternoon) so that by the time dinner rolls around, I’m not hungry – at all.

Or if I’m a little hungry, I’ll eat another bagel.

This plan seems to be working – I’ve lost a little weight and I’m training my body to eat at different times.

I woke up this morning, had my breakfast and went to work. But I started to feel funny by the time I drove into the parking lot. I felt like a fist was pressing into my stomach and before long, I felt nauseous and ran to the bathroom to promptly lose my breakfast. I couldn’t figure it out. I’m NEVER SICK. Like, EVER. And this was a really strange thing for me and it happened so fast.

I felt a little better after tossing my breakfast, but before long, I felt that pressure again and my co-worker said my face turned white. She could tell I was trying not to vomit. I finally threw in the towel and came home. I chewed four extra-strength Tums and slept for about two hours.

I left work at 11:00 and by 1:30, I was feeling 100% better and considering there were several hours left in the day, I went back to work.

You can imagine everyone’s surprise when they saw I was back. But I honestly felt better. I left work at 11:00, came home, chewed some Tums, slept for a bit, woke up around 1:30ish and thought, “I feel fine.” I couldn’t, in good conscience, NOT go back to work. What was I going to do for the remainder of the day? (Oh sure, there is always something to do at home, but I would rather spend my time making money, if at all possible).

So I put my scrubs back on and went back to work. And I got quite a bit done in the remaining hours – and I’m pretty sure I scored brownie points with my boss. (Which wasn’t why I went back to work – I just have a VERY STRONG work ethic – but BONUS!)

Everyone was more than a little surprised to see me back. (My co-worker had sent out an email stating I had gone home sick). And I’m sure they were thinking, “Damn it, Karen. You’re making the rest of us look bad by putting on this super employee suit” but I’m being honest when I say, if I ever call in sick to work, it’s because I’m near death.

And that’s the God-honest truth.

And yes, I realize I’m super weird, especially nowadays when “work ethic” is an alien term to most Americans. I hate to be snarky, but there it is.

I have a few patients that call me every five or six months trying to get an appointment with one of my doctors. I’ve come to recognize their names but somehow, or at least they act like, they don’t recognize me.

Nice try.

These patients have been black balled. Yes. It happens in health care, too.

Here’s why: The doctors have spent a GOOD PORTION of their clinic day, (and documented this time spent), trying to help the patients mentioned above. They go over (and over) test results and explain (over and over) what they see and what they recommend. Most times, the patients are not surgical candidates but because my (and I call them “mine” because I’ve grown fond of all of the doctors and it’s my job to try and make their jobs just a little easier so I’m protective of that responsibility), are nice doctors, they offer suggestions on what the patient can do to try and help themselves. They don’t immediately jump on the surgery bandwagon, even though that’s what they love to do and get paid well to do, and they WILL NOT prescribe any sort of pain medications unless they performed surgery on the patient.

Fair enough, right?

They will often recommended diet changes, exercise and sometimes injections – and sometimes, these things help, if the patients will take that advice to heart and make an honest effort toward feeling better.

But that’s not good enough for a small percentage of people. They want a quick fix – they want a pill or they want surgery so that the pain will go away. And to be fair, I get that. Sometimes you have so much pain that you just can’t get away from it. It’s utterly miserable and it affects the way you live your life. But that’s the point – it’s time to change the way you live your life. Often times, people have made bad choices and they now have to live with those bad choices. It’s time to step up and make better choices.

I’m in a unique situation because I truly see both sides of the story. And I empathize with those people who are truly hurting and for whatever reason, our doctors don’t recommend surgery so that leaves the patient … where exactly? Having to learn to live with it. People who receive this type of news break down at my desk and I feel so bad for them – I can see they are in pain, frustrated and not sure what to do next. We often refer these patients to a rehabilitation doctor who might offer them non-surgical pain management options, or to a pain clinic to help manage their pain. It’s heart breaking and I feel so helpless because I can’t help offer them anything but that referral.

But once in a while, and to be fair, it doesn’t happen very often, in fact, I can only think of four patients off the top of my head, who won’t take no for an answer. Not only do they not take no for an answer, they won’t even try what the doctor recommended. To be fair, if patients have tried the recommendations and another doctor has taken more films and thinks the patient needs to come back and see my surgeons, my doctors will see that patient, again, and re-assess their situation, again. (Eight times out of ten, a patient who has been sent back to our office by another doctor gets the same news – no surgery recommended).

But the patients who haven’t even tried the recommendations and want to get back in, nay, DEMAND to be seen, burn their bridge. Doctors are human and their time is valuable. They will bend over backwards to help patients (and I’ve seen all of them do that several times), they are human – they get tired of beating their heads against a brick wall and they will black-ball patients.

These are the patients who have been hateful, demeaning, insulting and downright nasty to either the doctor himself (it happens and it always amazes me that people even take that attitude with another human being, let alone someone they want to help them), or they are extremely rude, hateful, nasty to the staff.

(So yes, be nice to the staff. Because like I’m protective of my doctors, a lot of doctors grow fond of their staff – it goes both ways.)

Black balling means they put a pop-up on the patients chart to either check with the nurse first before scheduling (the nurse will call the patient and gauge the situation), or to simply not schedule them at all.

End of discussion.

Sometimes, if a patient has been black balled, another doctor in the same clinic will see the patient. Another doctor will look at the patient’s clinical information and if he feels like he can help that patient, he will agree to see that patient. Again, it’s not as cold blooded as I make it out to be. But if another doctor sees that the patient was non-compliant and refuses to heed advice or to even be civil – all bets are off. The patient will not be seen and will be forced to seek treatment with another specialist with another hospital.

So be careful, my friends. Doctors CAN and DO refuse to see patients if they are rude, nasty or simply refuse to meet the doctor halfway when it comes to his/her treatment.

And now with this disaster called Obamacare, I predict this will be even more common – not on a patient’s attitude or non-compliance, but because the patient’s insurance prevents the doctor from getting paid for his time and talents.

It happens. It’s happening now. Be nice to your doctor. Hell, be nice to everyone. Your attitude DOES matter in the grand scheme of things.

Our IT guy set up instant messaging at work for us today.

We. Had. A. Ball. With. It.

Now. Instead of emailing gossip or venting about a patient that’s being a jerk to us (true story), we can send instant messages to each other!

I’m kidding. (Sort of).

We’re getting ready to try something different. I’m excited about it, but there are going to be some hiccups along the way – but if there’s one thing you can count on, it’s change.

Let me explain: part of my job is to pre-certify testing, MRI’s and CT’s. This means, I have to contact the patient’s insurance company and make sure they do not require a prenotification, or a precertification, before the patient has his/her test. If we don’t obtain this authorization before the patient has his/her test, it’s very likely the insurance will not pay their portion of the bill and the hospital will have to eat the cost because it was our fault for not getting the authorization.

This is stressful by itself, add in trying to find the time to do make the call, or sign onto an account online, in between patients, or worse, having to stop what we’re doing because we’ve worked a patient in for the testing and they can’t do the test until we have run the authorization request through the insurance company, and, well, IT GETS STRESSFUL.

Especially when the insurance company wants more documentation and/or denies it.

AWKWARD.

So. Management is looking at farming the precertification process to a department completely dedicated to the process. We’re the last clinic to get on board with this and we’re all REALLY excited about giving it up.

No really. I’m not being sarcastic – WE. ARE. SO. PUMPED.

But. We needed an effective, fast, and easy way to communicate with one another because ultimately, we’ll be still be the ones who make sure everything looks good before sending the final order to be processed and sent to the facility that is doing the test.

Enter instant messaging.

The IT guy got it loaded and working today, but not everyone’s is active. Mine is. And I played around with a few other girls that had theirs set up, but I’m mostly looking forward to giving the nurses a hard time. I work with some pretty awesome ladies and I can’t WAIT to tease them via IM.

Of course. I will be completely professional about it …

… most of the time. HA!

(Did I mention the program comes with all kinds of cutesy smiley faces?? Oh yeah … let the games, er, IM’s begin.)

I could work every day. I could.

I like working. I like having someplace to be at a certain time. I like that I’m forced to get up, get dolled up and be out the door at a certain time.

When I don’t have that, I lose focus. I find myself sitting around my house all morning long, in my jammies, listing my good intentions but never acting on them.

In short – I’m LAZY.

Right now, Kevin is working seven days a week. If he’s not doing the Turbo Tax/Intuit gig, he’s working on clients’ tax returns. He’s rarely home anymore and though I know he’s exhausted and quite ready to slow down and TAKE a day off, I’m a little jealous. Because even though I may grumble, and my body may complain, I think I’d like that.

Whenever it’s time for the weekend, or it’s time for vacation, I groan a little bit inside. Sure. It’s nice to have two days off, but after two days, I’m READY to go back to work.

It’s not so much THIS job that I love going back to, but rather, I enjoy the structure and the satisfaction I get out of producing something and being productive.

This is why I never really enjoyed being a stay-at-home-mom. Because I’m inherently lazy and not having any structure really threw me for a loop. And if you want the God’s awful truth, it sort of depressed me.

Please don’t misunderstand, I’m GRATEFUL that I was able to stay home with the boys all those years. I wouldn’t trade that experience, or that time, for anything. It was my duty, and my pleasure, to be available for them: I made the choice to have children, I made the choice to raise those children.

But I was SO READY to go back to work. To contribute to society – to be useful.

To someone other than children, that is.

Now that the boys are young men and really have no use for me anymore, and Kevin has been so busy with work, and will continue to be crazy busy until the end of April, I find that I have a lot more time on my hands. In some respect, MOMMA LIKES. I can read whenever I want to. I can watch whatever I want to. I can take cat naps whenever I want to. I can put off housework until one hour before Kevin comes home … it’s nice. It’s nice having that freedom. It’s nice not having anyone demand any of my time … my time has become my own once again.

And it’s …. weird. Nice. But weird. I’m savoring this time; it’s balm on my soul and retribution for all those years I didn’t have time to myself when the boys were growing up.

But too much time and I get into too much trouble.

I love working. I love making good use out of my time and I love getting paid for my time.

So yes. I could work seven days a week.

I really could.

So. This happened…

… and then I got a call from a number I didn’t recognize and when I listened to the voicemail, it was from my boss and she said, “Don’t worry about coming in to work today, the roads are just too bad.”

And I was like, “What?? That’s NEVER happened in the 25+ years I’ve been working,” and because that was so weird and I was a little dumbfounded, I called her back.

“Jill. Are you SURE you don’t want me to come in? I don’t live very far …?”

But no. She said to stay home.

I just hope patients don’t brave the roads and show up to a clinic that may, or may not, be open to see a doctor who is most likely not there to see them.

It should be an interesting day tomorrow fielding calls and rescheduling people.

But I’ll be honest, I’m glad they told me to stay home. I’m not usually a scaredy cat to drive when there’s bad weather, but when it’s nothing but chunky ice like you see in the above picture and it’s sticking and about an inch thick?

*MEOW*

I’m more relived that the boys aren’t going to school/class today. Because the thought of THEM out there driving in this mess gives me gray hairs. It’s bad enough that Kevin went into work, but he went in so early this morning, it was actually BEFORE most of the ice was dumped on us so I know he made it to work safely … (Now to get him home safely).

So. No work day. I have the entire day laid out in front of me and I don’t even know where to start. Do I read? Blog? Vlog? Clean house?

(HAHAHAHHAHA on that last one.)

I think I’ll just sit here, sip my coffee and munch on my dry Eggo and simply enjoy the fact that it’s going on 9:00 o’clock on a week day morning and I’m snug-as-a-bug at home in my long johns and hoodie.

So.

I’m feeling cocky and my ego has grown two heads today.

I’m feeling more confident about my job. I’m getting faster and more efficient and I’ve been asked (okay fine, I just sort of took it over because I’m one of those annoying leader-type people) to train the new girl.

(And I’m not okay with her just sitting there and watching me – who learns that way? I have to explain what I’m doing and WHY I’m doing something, so I’m talking a lot. And I’m sick of listening to my voice, quite frankly).

The nurse’s secretary is also new. And she’s a little freaked out when it comes to precerting testing through insurance companies. Granted, it’s not fun. And a pain. BUT, there’s a … trick to it. You just have to know what the insurance companies want to hear.

Granted, I’M NOT LYING. But when you precert tests, you sort of have to think outside the box and read between the lines on the doctor’s notes because they don’t often come right out and say what they’re looking for or trying to rule out.

Anyway. I found out that this girl came out of the nurse’s area crying on Friday, after I left early, because she was frustrated. And no one wanted to help her.

Enter Super Karen.

I know. I know. But dad gum it, how is anyone supposed to learn anything if no one takes the bull by the horns and freaking SHOWS them?!?

She gushed all over me. And told me, once again, that the nurses loved me and thought I was the best scheduler, hands down.

Even though it was really cool to hear that, I was beyond mortified. Okay. Let’s all agree I’m awesome quietly, shall we?? No need to broadcast that all over the clinic.

*ahem*

Anyway. I’m afraid it’s gone a teensy bit to my head. I found myself strutting around the clinic today and I was, erhm, a little more vocal than I have been. And more opinionated.

And I know where that usually leads me – Hello Trouble.

It’s time to rein it in and shut my mouth. And mind my P’s and Q’s.

And continue to be QUIETLY awesome.

HA!

*MA = Medical Assistant.

**I played around with my Movie Studio software for the first time. It was fun! I still have a ways to go before I can edit it the way I really want it, but it’s a start. Hopefully, I can figure out how to add background music later.

***Just noticed there’s a dead spot in the middle of the video – oops. I’m a video-editing newb.

I’ve only been at my job for a little over one year and I might end up being one of the veterans in my area very soon.

Drama. Lots of drama yesterday. I went in early for a meeting and I was probably the most vocal I’ve been, and will be, for quite some time. I don’t know what came over me but all of my frustrations sort of just … spilled out. I’ve mentioned, a time or two (or 50) that my job is stressful. And my stress grows and festers to the point that I’m often times finding myself exploding over the most stupid stuff.

A new girl started the other day. And she actually used to do the job that I’m doing now. So she mentions this as we’re all sitting around waiting for our office lead to show up and, well, lead the meeting. And this girl mentions she used to do my job.

“I’m sorry,” I say jokingly and the room laughs. “This is the most complex and stressful job I’ve ever had”. I laughed, but I’m afraid it was more of a maniacal sort of laugh.

And no one disputed me on that fact. They all know, know, that yes indeed, my position is the most stressful job among all of the front office positions. And I’ve been told, numerously, that no one would want my job.

It’s not exactly comforting to hear that.

As is usually the case whenever you have a company meeting, we went over things we could “improve” on and clarified a few things that might have been “confusing” to some of us.

And then we went back to our desks and had a “mini” meeting for just the schedulers.

Only, one of us wasn’t there. Apparently, one of the other schedulers was sent home and no one really knows why. But rumor was it was due to “disciplinary” reasons. Now this girl has been working there for years and years and as with any job, duties have evolved, technology is different and things have changed. Only, this gal doesn’t want to change along with it, so she sticks to her habits. Which are inefficient and sloppy. So, she periodically gets into trouble for only doing a half-ass job or doesn’t do it at all.

And she gets disciplined, gets sent home, comes back with a “new” attitude and does a good job until the cycle begins again. So honestly, none of us were really surprised that she was sent home – *yawn* – wash and repeat.

An incident happened between two of the other schedulers and they sort of duked it out in front of our bosses. Which, actually, was probably a good thing because honestly, I would rather get stuff off my chest than allow it to weigh me down. So it was sort of nice to clear the air, but, one of the girls was very upset and quite honestly, I don’t think she’ll last much longer either as I’ve caught her filling out applications.

Hey. I’m not judging. You have to do what you have to do and if you’re truly unhappy with your job, then find another one. Just be careful because jobs are not exactly easy to find nowadays (Thanks to Obamanomics).

So that leaves me and one other girl. And though I’m fond of this girl (I’m fond of all the girls, actually), she drives me nuts because she has the personality where EVERYTHING is a BIG deal and she just exhausts me with her “issues.”

I have no idea what’s going to happen this week (the one gal was told not to come back until Tuesday) and who knows how fed up the other girl is and how long she’ll stick around and the only thing that I keep thinking is, “maybe I’ll finally be able to move into the 8:00 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. slot” because I work the 8:30 to 5:00 shift now.

I know that makes me sound insensitive, but honestly, it’s a dog-eat-dog world out there right now – the strongest survive, right?

I just hope I’m strong enough.

It didn’t dawn on me until the day was half over …

TODAY IS MY ONE-YEAR ANNIVERSARY!!

For you long-time readers, can you freaking believe this??? It’s already been one year since I started in the healthcare field.

That just boggles my mind. And even though I’m going to leave healthcare at some point in the near future … I’m not sure I thought I’d last a whole year. The first few months were rough – REALLY ROUGH. Like I would go-home-and-cry rough. There was SO much to learn. Not only was I learning about the industry, and all the terminology and acronyms, and policies and HIPPA rules, etc., but I was scrambling to learn brand new software and terrified I was going to schedule the wrong patient with the wrong doctor (check), or a wrong test (check) or forget to put them on the Imaging schedule for a test (check) … it was nerve wracking.

It didn’t help that I had no help – AT ALL. There was virtually no training. I watched my office manager for maybe – maybe – two days before she said, “Okay, you’re on your own. Just jump in, that’s the best way to learn.”

Now granted, I’m a fast learner, but COME ON, I’m human and I was completely lost for several weeks. Slowly, I started getting the hang of it and I must say, looking back on the experience one year later, my office manager is the worst office manager on the face of the earth. She openly despises her job and she in no way ever, EVER offers to help anyone out.

It’s really quite sad, if you want the truth. She’s an alpha female (which technically, I guess you could say I am too, but I’m also a smart alpha female and I’m aggressive in more effective ways – heh) and she likes to feel like she’s in control of everything. So … she doesn’t teach anyone anything so you have no choice but to rely on her.

Meh. Whatever. She can sit on her throne and feel self-important – I could give a monkey’s butt.

So yeah, I’ve been there for one year now and it never ceases to amaze me how people refuse to take responsibility for their health. I had one lady I was trying to set physical therapy up for and she whined and fought me every step of the way. She kept complaining how she couldn’t afford it and yes, I realize it’s expensive, but this is your health we’re talking about – I’d say that’s a good investment, wouldn’t you? I’ve moved past the point where I allow people to bully me. That happened a few times when I first started, but I quickly got over that and now I know when to stick to my guns and when to compromise. I stuck to my guns with this woman and after a while, she laid her head down and mumbled, “I just want an injection.”

Yeah. I thought so.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the crux of it. People want a quick fix. They want an injection. They want a pill. They want surgery. They want the solution that requires the least amount of work from them possible. It annoys me to no end when people act this way. Or. They get upset with the doctor because he didn’t immediately suggest surgery.

First – contrary to popular belief – surgery should be the LAST option, not the first option. Our doctors put patients through physical therapy, injections and pain management programs in an effort to see if any of these conservative treatments will work. Secondly, the doctors prescribe conservative treatment because insurance companies will not pay for surgery if the patient hasn’t at least TRIED conservative treatment … and you can see why. If we all skipped conservative treatment, insurance companies would go broke paying for everyone’s surgeries.

It’s also frustrating to try and explain to patients that they are not surgical. Our doctors are neurosurgeons – if they determine they can’t help a patient, that that patient is not surgical, then we have to refer them to a pain management doctor or back to their primary care physician (PCP) because we can not help them. Patients simply do not understand, or accept, the fact that our doctors can’t help them. i know they pin all of their hopes on our specialists being able to fix them, to help them get past their pain and if surgery is ruled out, they are left feeling hopeless, scared and frustrated because now what? The quick fix is no longer an option and CRAP, they are going to have to start taking responsibility and make lifestyle changes – exercise, lose weight (which is about 85% of the problem, if you want the truth), stretching, etc. …

It’s really hard to NOT lose patience with people sometimes. Most of the time, I’m pretty sympathtic, even empathetic because my back goes out sometimes and I get it – I GET IT. But there are some patients that you can’t just get through to … and it gets so bad, our doctors refuse to see them back for whatever reasons.

And trust me when I say, you really don’t want to get to a point where your doctor “fires” you and yes, that happens more than you think.

So the next time you go to the doctor and he/she prescribes conservative treatment remember three things:

1. He/she is trying to avoid an invasive procedure.
2. Insurance companies demand conservative treatment options first
3. It’s a process of elimination and if the doctor can rule out certain possibilities, then he/she can come make a more accurate diagnosis.

And the ultimate goal is to feel better, right?

I avoid doctors at all costs – both the ones I pay to look at my various body parts and the ones I work for. It’s a game really. I’m a peon – and I’m COMPLETELY okay being a peon. I wouldn’t want to be a doctor. Doctors get a bad rap, you know, but have you ever stopped to think about how much responsibility doctors have??

The brain doctors I work for quite literally have the patient’s life in their hands. Would YOU want that much responsibility? And because having that much responsibility comes with MASSIVE stress, don’t you think they DESERVE to be paid well to endure all of that on a daily basis?

Of course you do. Don’t be a jerk and say no.

My doctors are intimidating. I don’t really talk to the doctors. In fact, any time I have a question, I avoid the doctors and go straight to the nurses.

But once in a while, when I have to leave my desk and go back to the clinic area, (where the exam rooms are), I run into a doctor. And I have no choice but to address my question to them because, well, it concerns their patient.

Most of the doctors are pretty cool. Their answers are always short and concise because they have so many things running through their very intelligent brains at any given time, but a few of the doctors are not personable at all and scare the hell out of me, quite frankly. One doctor never addresses me directly – I will be standing not five feet away from the man and he’ll answer my question THROUGH the nurse, who in turn looks at me and repeats what he just said.

It’s sort of insulting.

This tends to bother some people but me, meh. I honestly don’t care. I think it’s sort of amusing, actually. I mean sure, the man has several intelligence points on me, but he’s not any better than me as a human being, he’s just more accomplished and way more successful than I am. And he’s in his element – I’m sure if the man tried something I was good at, he wouldn’t hold a light to me, either.

(Or maybe he would).

At any rate. Doctors have Texas-sized egos. It just sort of comes with the territory. And I suppose they sort of HAVE to have this arrogant, confident attitude so patients will trust them. Who wants to turn their health over to a man who can’t complete a sentence or who acts like he’s scared of his shadow?

Exactly.

And I’m proud of our doctors – like mama bear proud. These men are amazing human beings. They comfort people. They fix people. They SAVE people.

Case in point:

This patient checked out with me today and he talked my head off. Sometimes, I get impatient with patients who feel the need to tell me their life stories because I’m thinking in the back of my head of all the things I need to get done in the next few hours, but then I take a breath and force myself to slow down and listen, really listen, to what they’re saying.

People have incredible stories. If you ever think your life is hard, you should try listening to people who have health problems. It’ll put you in your place pronto.

This patient I talked to today had a brain bleed – two bleeds, actually. And he passed out whacking himself on the head so much hard that his brain swelled. He was out for two days. One of our doctors fixed him. And he was fully functioning, and speaking clearly and it was really a miracle that he was alive.

And he was sitting in my chair telling me about all of his near-death experiences in his life.

And how he praised God for protecting him and helping him through every single incident.

It’s stories like that that make health care worth it.

And patients like that that make me feel proud to be in a position to help them.

At least, according to my husband.

SEXY, RIGHT?? (Kevin routinely “compliments” me like that – I’m used to it. Also? Tough. My hair. Deal).

I got a trim and a color this past Saturday. My hair is even shorter than it is in my profile picture you see in the right-hand column. It’s my fault, really. I allowed the stylist to talk, and talk, and talk and whack, whack and whack and by the time I really noticed how much she was taking off and on the verge of saying something, she stopped, stepped back and said, “Is that short enough?”

I nearly shouted “YES” back at her.

So yeah. It’s short. And it’s dark. Like almost black. At least, it feels that dark to me, but really, it’s pretty close to my natural hair color. Which is what I wanted, actually. The stylist used a different type of color on me this time – it’s supposed to cover gray better. *shrug* I don’t know, I can’t really tell a difference, but everyone I worked with today said something to me.

They liked it. And they thought the shortness (because I can’t really say the “length” since there isn’t a “length” to it) looked good on me. One gal thought my new “do” made me look younger.

I’LL TAKE IT!

Let’s put it this way, my hair is SO short, that the stylist had to use an electric haircutter-razor thing to shave off the tiny hairs on my neck.

I know! But you know? I like it. It’s super easy to take care of and it’ll last me a good seven, possibly eight weeks before I feel like it needs another trim. (My hair grows insanely fast. Nearly every stylist I go comments on that).

So I went to work feeling self-conscious, but left work feeling pretty good because so many people made positive comments. I have no idea if they really felt that way, but … DON’T CARE. It made my day.

I have a public service announcement:

Healthcare clinics are not emergency rooms.

I talked to a patient’s husband today, and he was concerned about the amount of pain his wife was in.

Understandable. This is especially hard for men because it’s an instinct for them to “fix” things and they want to make everything better. When they can’t, they get frustrated.

I get that. I understand that.

However. We are a clinic. Our doctors are certainly in the business of fixing people, but if it’s an emergency and requires immediate attention, that’s what an emergency room is for. We schedule patients and our doctors rely on this schedule when they see patients. They rarely, RARELY, work patients in because they are in extreme pain.

Everyone who sees our doctors are in pain – get in line.

I try not to be annoyed with people who throw an absolute hissy fit about not being able to be seen the next day, but let’s be real – we’re not an emergency room. If a patient goes to the emergency room and our doctors take a look at whatever test they do in the emergency room and determine that the patient needs to be seen in the clinic, trust me, WE MAKE IT HAPPEN.

But the norm? Is to make an appointment for people who are in equal, if not more, pain.

I had a patient ask me how she was supposed to KNOW if she needed to go to the emergency room.

No one KNOWS when to go to the emergency room, there’s no hard and fast rule, everyone is different. Every situation is different. Everyone’s pain tolerance is different. You just listen to your body and you usually know, deep down, when something is not right. If you’ve reached that deep-down part of you that knows something is wrong and you feel scared because it FEELS wrong, then for the love of God, go to the emergency room.

That’s why it’s called an emergency room – it’s an emergency. We can’t do much for you in a clinic setting, we’re not physically equipped to handle emergencies – we’re equipped to provide a setting for the patient to speak with the doctor about a standing issue and nothing more.

I can understand why doctors become de-sensitized to the whole process … because there’s just so much of it. EVERYONE is in pain. EVERYONE wants to be fixed. And though our doctors are awesome, not everyone CAN be fixed surgically. Many patients can be fixed if they are just willing to make some lifestyle changes.

But alas, society today relies too much on quick fixes – whether that’s a pill, or a surgical procedure to correct whatever is wrong or not working properly.

So please. Do not treat clinics like your personal emergency room because it’s not that we don’t want to help you, it’s because we’re not physically equipped to do so.

Work is going well.

For the most part, I have a handle on things now. I was thrown a curve ball that took me nearly six weeks and a call to my supervisor to solve, but I finally got the patient taken care of – even though I found out later that I wasn’t really supposed to take care of that particular problem to begin with, it should have fallen onto the nurse, but hey, I’ll know what to do next time … IF there is a next time.

I haven’t found a job yet, I haven’t really been looking yet. Kevin and I are going out of town in the next few weeks and I don’t want to rock the boat by finding a job and then saying, “Oh, by the way, I need a week off.”

I can’t, in good conscience, do that to my new employer.

So. I’m working my tail end off, 40 (sometimes plus) hours a week trying to stay on top of things. I’m coming home exhausted, but it’s a pleasant exhaustion and I feel like I’m accomplishing something … which is something, I suppose.

Kevin and I went to the company “picnic” yesterday. Apparently, the hospital throws an annual “thank you” picnic at an expo center and I missed it by one week last year. So we went this year.

It’s a good thing it was held indoors because it rained ALL DAY yesterday. I’m not complaining, we really needed the rain. And as long as it was THIS week and not NEXT week when we have our first band competition, then I’m good.

It was sort of cheesy. It was geared mainly toward little kids and since we don’t have little kids anymore, we basically went for the free meal. The food was catered in by Rib Crib, so it was super yummy and I mentioned it was free, right??

We didn’t stick around very long, in fact, I’m not even sure we were there an hour, but it was worth going to and I’m glad we went. We grabbed a Pumpkin Spice Latte afterward and got my oil changed since we are planning an out-of-town trip nearly every weekend for the next six weeks. Then we went grocery shopping.

It was a busy and yet relaxing Saturday.

Which are the best sorts of Saturdays, don’t you think?

Even though I was paid to go to work yesterday, I did very little working.

I work for neurosurgeons (brain/spine). There. I said it. So when I tell you that I work for some of the most brilliant minds in the country, I assure you, I’m not exaggerating. The doctors I work for are SMART COOKIES, ya’ll.

And every year, they have a neuroscience conference where they ship cadavers in and practice techniques, compare notes and teach residents what they know. It’s an esteemed conference and quite coveted – only a select few residents are invited to participate and that’s mainly because there simply isn’t room for all of them.

This conference is not open to the public, for obvious reasons. But since I work for these wonderful doctors, they invited the clinic staff to visit the cadaver labs and watch them do what they do best – fix people.

I went with five other co-workers yesterday. We all piled into the company van and drove to the conference. We arrived while the doctors/residents were still in a presentation, so we walked around and enjoyed the sights. The conference center was located in the heart of the Ozarks and the view was breathtaking. Even though I live in a county close by, it’s still nice to visit neighboring counties. And it’s really cool to see what I’ve grown up around with fresh eyes whenever you talk with someone new to the area and they point out all of the beauty that has been surrounding me my entire life.

Missouri really IS a beautiful state, ya’ll.

You should visit sometime.

Anyway. When the presentation was completed, we followed the doctors/residents into a different ballroom and patiently waited for them to put on scrubs and gather around the cadaver of their choice.

The day before, they worked on brains – I wasn’t sure I could handle that (considering I’ve never been to a cadaver lab before), so I opted to go on the day they would work on spines.

I braced myself. A lot of people cautioned me about the smell, but I was pleasantly surprised – there was virtually no smell. (Save for the occasional burnt hair smell when the doctors cauterized nerve endings). I later learned, that the cadaver escort carefully cleans them on a daily basis to help keep the smell down. I must say, she did an excellent job because there was virtually no smell.

And that’s something else – these cadavers? Are treated with the utmost respect, ya’ll. Everyone appreciates the sacrifices these people have made to science and it’s mind boggling how their contribution helps our doctors come up with new and improved ways of saving future people. It nearly brings tears to my eyes, it’s so moving.

Anyway. Once the doctors/residents settled in, we, the handful of invited spectators, walked around and simply … observed. We consciously stayed out of everyone’s way, but quite honestly? Everyone was SO NICE!!!!! I was shocked by how helpful and informative everyone was. We had doctors, PA’s, and even residents, pausing to explain to us what they were doing and why. I know they were getting something out of the impromptu lesson, too, because it helps to learn something when you have to explain it to someone else. One of the doctors I schedule for directly worked on a cadaver that had a big TV screen attached, so we had a really good view of his work. It was terribly interesting and not at all gross. (Well, okay, it was a little gross, but not as disturbing as you might think).

Our group walked around and watched various procedures. The other cadavers didn’t have TV screens so it was harder to see, and hear, what they were doing, but it was almost as equally interesting, to me at least, to simply watch the doctors interact with the residents. The residents were so serious and intense as they soaked up what their mentors were telling them.

We stood/walked around all m