Thursday, November 8, 2012

One for me, None for you

I have been on vacation.  I didn't go anywhere special.  It was nice to get away from the hospital and the nasty employees.

The next schedule was not posted before I left on vacation.  Finding a schedule is difficult enough when I am in the building, never mind calling around by phone and hoping that the person on the other end tells you the correct information.

On Monday, I kept getting bounced back to a particular supervisor.  She told me that my next scheduled day to work is Wednesday.  I offered to come in on Tuesday, as horrible weather conditions were predicted and I can walk to work.  (Dream come true for some.  Ultra convenient when the car doesn't start or there is a snowstorm.)  She says, "I'll note that you are available for Tuesday.  Are you already on the schedule to work on Tuesday?"

Me:  "You just told me I was not on the schedule again until Wednesday.  I don't know if I'm scheduled to work Tuesday.  I don't have the schedule.  That is why I am calling."

She didn't catch on.

I called back on the night shift when the roads were covered in ice compounded by some combination of snow and freezing rain that was not snow, just terribly cold and dangerous.  Same supervisor answered the phone.  She told me that I am not scheduled to work on Tuesday and that I can't come in because no overtime is allowed.

I told her it's not overtime because I did not work two days in the week already.  She wouldn't budge.

Keep in mind that this supervisor was on overtime herself at this point.  She gives out overtime every day- to her favorite children.

It's not that I like being there.  I really hate it.  I need more money each month to pay the bills.  The student loans are as much as my rent, which is not cheap.  And I don't live in a luxury apartment.  I don't want per diem shifts at the nursing home.  The patient load is unmanageable and my license would be at risk as I was slammed with very sick people and no time to manage all of them.  I would be floated to the busiest floor and the aides would do whatever they wanted because I would be too busy trying to figure out the medications and wound care.  Then a guilt-ridden daughter would descend upon me, demanding that I drop everything and search the building for her mother's missing green pants or she will call the police to report a theft.

So I am looking for a part-time gig.  Preferably not in nursing, but nothing else seems to pay as well.

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