Sunday, February 22, 2015

Just Let Me Know

A woman works in some administrative office.  I have no idea what she does or what her title is.  There are a lot of such people wandering the hospital.  Yet most busy buddies are only concerned that I have to maintain a hectic work pace, not these administrative employees.

Every now and then this woman calls me on the phone or stops by to see me and tells me, "Whatever you need, you just let me know.  Whatever it is.  Okay?  And I'll get it done."

She gives off a subdued aura.  I sense that she's looking for something either within me or within my office.  I don't know what she's up to, so I watch myself around her.

One day, she made three "Whatever you need, just tell me" phonecalls to my work area.  So I told her one thing that I needed:  info on a John Doe who had come in last week.  I needed his real name and date of birth- if they had been discovered.

"Well, I wouldn't know that stuff," the woman replied.  "Why would you ask me for that information?"

"Because you told me that whatever I needed, to let you know.  I need this person's information to schedule procedures," I explained.

The response:  "I meant only ask me for something I know how to do.  I don't know how to get information."

"Okay.  Thanks," I answered.  Useless.

And she still closed the phonecall with her usual offer:  "Whatever you need, you just let me know."

Monday, February 16, 2015

Karma, part three

Dina is getting more of what she deserves.  The beauty of it is that I don't have to do a thing except sit back and watch.

Dina had a relationship with another employee in the past.  Her current boyfriend/husband is angry about this and is very possessive and obnoxious about Dina.  In return, Dina is very possessive and obnoxious about her hubby, especially since his first wife also works at the hospital.  A Love Square?  All four work at the hospital.

Dina's hubby and her former lover have both been out on extended leaves of "disability."

Well, the former lover returned this week.  In his absence, Dina was assigned to his usual ward.  All hell broke lose when he reported to work.

"My HUSBAND does not want me working with him!" Dina could be heard screaming all over the hospital.  Nevermind getting any work done.  Her husband is not some Important Person.  He's an orderly.  A lazy, know-it-all orderly.

I overheard Former Lover complaining.  "I've worked here longer.  This is my ward.  Why should they move me because of Dina and that jerk of a husband of hers, who isn't even working here right now?"

This is really ridiculous.  I've asked to be moved many times because of open, outright hostility by other staff members against me, and was always denied.  But the Administration does as ordered by Dina and her hubby?  Because of their jealousies and insecurities about the other's faithfulness?

This story is spreading far and wide and Dina and Hubby are being made into the villains.

Former Lover is no prize.  He announced that he is engaged to be married and has no lingering desire for Dina.  "Yo, dude, check this out.  I gave her an engagement ring that cost me $23,000.  I told her, if you lose it or even think about hocking it, I'll punch your fucking face in."

Sunday, February 15, 2015

Karma, part two

Dina's problems continue.  (Snicker)

Her complaint with me was that I was after her boyfriend/husband and I'm a slut and a whore.  As if this is true, bad, and any of her business.

Ironically, Dina's reputation is slut, whore, and home wrecker, as she stole her current boyfriend/husband from another woman, who also still works at the hospital.

Dina is short and very slender.  Lately, she is wearing her hair down and is wearing a lot of makeup.  In the past, her hair was tied in a low, unkempt ponytail and the most makeup on her face was lip gloss.

Her clothes have become very form-fitting.  She carries off the look well.  Nothing is low-cut or revealing of the skin, but you can't miss her slender frame with no bulges anywhere.  This is good in a way because I'll know the second she becomes pregnant- she'll start wearing (unnecessary) billowing tops.

Dina's husband is on disability leave from the hospital.  Now unsupervised, I've noticed Dina hanging out with certain male employees.  Rumors abound that she is cheating.  With her announcement that she is desperate to get pregnant (with her husband's baby?), people are joking that Dina will have a tough time figuring out the biological father if she does become pregnant.

After the hell she put me through with her accusations and displays of drama, I am glad that she is reaping what she sowed.

Saturday, February 14, 2015

Karma, part one

Dina is the jerk who erupted on me many times for being a "slut" and a "whore" and for going after her (disgusting, undesirable, lazy) boyfriend, whom she is now referring to as her husband.

I was in a chart room on one of the wards when Dina arrived over an hour late to work.  Lateness is the standard at this place, although Dina is usually on time.  Without being asked, Dina started announcing, loudly, that she was late because she had blood work done to check on her fertility because she has not been able to conceive yet.

People announced a bunch of remedies for her, such as acupuncture, eating certain foods, drugs, and praying.

Dina said, "I'm doing yoga to become more flexible so I can get into the position needed to conceive."  She's an idiot.

"What position is that?" I called out from the room I was in.

"Oh my God who is that?" Dina cried out.

I came out of the room.  "Having problems, Dina?" I stated calmly, with a smug.

"Stop spying on me!" she screamed and hurried off.

This was not spying.  Do not even attempt a private conversation in a building with thousands of people.  Someone will hear you.  That was Dina's goal in announcing her infertility issue.

Monday, February 9, 2015

Not Me


One of the nurses in the office area came to me, upset.  She had thrown out one of the required certificates for display on the wall, thinking it had expired.  Someone was here, asking to see the certificate.

I told her to deny any knowledge that the certificate was missing.  If someone tries to say that it is her responsibility to make sure it's always on the wall and to notice immediately if it's missing, simply disagree with the person and insist that it's not her responsibility to keep track of the certificates and people who steal them.

She seemed surprised by my response.

I explained to her that our coworkers in this hospital have taught me so many ways to wiggle out of any problem.  The most often used techniques are outright denial of any involvement and denial of any responsibility.  Then shout and threaten to sue for harassment.

So she returned to the inquirer and told him that she was not the one who removed the certificate, so he should stop harassing her about it.  And he left.

Sunday, February 8, 2015

You Made Me Cry

I was sitting in my office at the start of my shift, minding my own business, when Nurse Helen called.  My most recent ward assignment was with Helen.  She's an idiot.

Helen launched into a babbling, incoherent rambling about needing some irrigation supplies for a wound.  I have no such items and I do not have access to them.  There is an entire department dedicated to supplying the wards with supplies.  Not my department.

I told her to call Central Supply.  She stammered, "No, Enid.  I am telling you."

"I understand that, Helen.  But your request would be better met if you directed it to the appropriate department, not me."  She knows damn well how to order supplies.

"You are not listening to me!" Helen screeched.  "I am telling you to do it!"

Times were bad when I was stuck with Helen on a ward.  She did little work and then invented some drama to try to get me in trouble.  Every day.  It had been a while since I was subjected to her nonsense.  The old feelings of persecution popped right up in me.  But this time was different.  I was not stuck on the ward, at her mercy.

"Helen, stop pretending that you don't know how to order supplies and using that as an excuse to call me and harass me," I firmly said into the phone and then hung up.

My immediate supervisor came to me shortly after.  Helen had run to her, crying about my verbal abuse.  I told the woman that Helen called me, demanding that I fill a supply order, which I cannot do, and that she would not take No for an answer.

That supervisor seemed to accept my explanation.  But Helen didn't accept the situation.  She abandoned her quest to obtain the urgent supply for the patient and instead ran to as many nurses, supervisors, and administrative people as she could, crying that I had verbally abused her when she was trying to help a patient.

Helen isn't a Favorite Child, but neither am I, so people could use Helen's complaint against me to hurt me and not to help Helen.

Hours later, around noon, Helen appeared in my work area, sobbing, looking for people to hear her tale of woe.  I left for lunch.

Helen isn't the only one complaining about me.  I'm afraid that the supervisor for my new work area will start siding with the complainants.



Saturday, February 7, 2015

Sleeping on the Job


Sleeping on the job is common at this hospital.  It's not from exhaustion from working too hard.  It's just plain old tiredness, or not wanting to waste time off with sleep.

Someone from an imaging department called my office to complain that one of the orderlies had fallen asleep in the waiting area while the patient ran around, babbling to herself, going in and out of rooms, touching people, knocking stuff over, etc.

The orderly is a jerk.  Jess.  One of her stories is here.  I wish I could use such a situation to get her fired.  Won't work.  Instead, this blew up in my face, as usual.

I assured the caller that I would handle it and asked her to gently nudge the orderly to wake her up.

The caller must not have been impressed with my response, so she called the nursing supervisor for our psychiatric area.

Jess and the supervisor don't get along, so the supervisor gladly used this situation to write her up.  I figured this really had nothing to do with me.  WRONG.  The supervisor doesn't like me, either, so she made sure to throw my name into the mix to inflame Jess even more.

The caller had mentioned to the supervisor that I had been notified (as if it has anything to do with me and that I have any power to help the sleeping idiot).  The supervisor told this to the Jess, who appeared in my office to scream at me for not responding in a manner that would have prevented this situation from reaching the attention of the supervisor.

Yes- she expected me to cover her ass.  After she has been nothing but an asshole to me.

I told her that she created this entire problem herself by falling asleep when she was supposed to be watching a patient.

She screamed, "Oh my God!  I am exhausted and so I took a little nap!  Is that a crime?  No.  I need naps because I have a LIFE, unlike you.  There is nothing wrong with taking a nap.  That is what busy ADULTS do."

In her view, this is all my fault and she did nothing wrong.

"Great!" I answered.  "Since there was nothing wrong with taking a nap, just go and explain that to the person who reported you and the supervisor, and they will apologize to you."

She let out an "I can't believe this" gasp, screamed, "You're such a loser," and ran out.

I am so glad that I don't have to spend an entire shift with her.


Friday, February 6, 2015

Benefit of Scrubs


I think my office position is contributing to some weight gain.

First, the calories aren't burned as much sitting at a desk as they were when I ran around the floor all shift.

Second, I have easier access to food.  I can keep food in the office and eat it without another nurse screaming that I'm not allowed to eat because I'm not on break.

Good thing I still wear scrubs.  My jeans are too snug to buckle.

Thursday, February 5, 2015

Driving Ms Crazy

Orderly:  Did you go to that wake last week?

Me:  No.  Did you?

Orderly:  Yes, but I almost didn't, because I can't see to drive, you know.  My son had to go with me.

Me:  Time flies!  The last I remember, he was still in grade school.

Orderly:  Oh, he still is.  Seventh grade.

Me:  How did he drive you if he is too young for a license?

Orderly:  He didn't drive me.  I drove.  He just told me when to stop, go, or make a turn.