Tuesday, April 26, 2016

Typing Notes

I was assigned to work in administrative offices for a week. This happened last year also and it was a pleasurable time. The atmosphere is calmer and more professional.

I also found out that employees of the hospital get full reimbursement for professional expenses such as license renewal, continuing education, dues for professional associations, and tuition. Everyone except nurses. “The nurses agreed to not receive any reimbursements for anything. It’s in their contract,” the business office explained when I called. I scanned the contract and found a paragraph about foregoing reimbursements in exchange for three yearly scholarships of one thousand dollars each.

Someone also tipped me off that one of the administrative nurses, who is also a union representative, volunteered me to type medication lists for patients on an as-needed basis. Such lists are needed for transfers, admissions, discharges, and whenever anyone wants a list of medications that the patient is currently prescribed. This is a clerical function that would not exist at all if the place used electronic medical records.

I was sitting and stewing over the lack of reimbursement and this union rep volunteering me for a shit job when she “happened” to find me and “mentioned” this new typing duty to me. I said it was clerical and that I was not on-call to construct such lists on demand. She said that it’s not clerical because it involves medications and that “only a nurse can write names of medications,” and that this new task cannot be given to a clerk because it is not in their job description.

“It’s not in my job description either,” I answered.

“Well, it is now,” she responded.

“Why can my job duties be expanded while nobody else’s can?” I asked. “From a union perspective,” I added.

“Because they can!” she quipped. “It’s called ‘being a team player.’ You should be happy that I saved you from another task. Someone wanted you to review nursing documentation for survey prep. I told them, ‘No.’ You cannot assume any additional work and be ping-ponged all over the hospital.”

“I’ll do it!” I said.

She glared at me. “No. We cannot have our nurses doing stuff that other disciplines should handle.”

I was annoyed. I pay this union over one hundred dollars a month to be screwed by them. “Can you distinguish why typing lists and stocking supplies, which are additional activities that you personally assigned to me this year, cannot be done by other disciplines, yet reviewing nurses’ notes is beyond my capabilities?”

“You cannot be doing work for other people!” she said nastily.

“You know what I’m noticing?” I said calmly. “Whenever an intellectual task is put on the table, you direct it elsewhere. But when a task that requires no nursing skills has to get done, you send it my way. It’s like you are thwarting my professional development as a nurse at this hospital.

“That is not what is going on here!” she roared. “And you better get permission from me and the union before you take on any assignments on your own.” She stormed out.

A secretary had been listening. “You know she bad mouths you in meetings?”

I looked at her.

“The directors of various departments notice that you do detailed work. They want you on their projects. She tells them no, that you refuse to help anyone and don’t want to do any work.”

“I figured,” I said. “What do I do?”

“Go to the department that oversees the charting. Tell them that you are interested.”


I found a guy who does risk management. “Your union rep said you filed a complaint against this department and that you are terrible to work with anyway, so we dropped the request to have you do some work for us,” he said.

That bitch.

“I had not heard about this until a few minutes ago,” I explained. “I am interested. Please, if you have any projects for me, tell me personally.”

My own union sabotages me to administration. This is how I lose every altercation.  I'm not getting my hopes up, but if I can transition around the hospital I may be able to survive until I can find a new job.

Monday, April 25, 2016

Whatever Makes You Happy

The enceinte Dina and I had a little chat.

[To refresh the readers' memories, Dina is the one who went after me because her husband wanted me.  Now Dina is pregnant with another man's child and she is scrambling to get a divorce before the baby's arrival.]

When you work among enemies, you become lonely.  I've had to train myself to not open up to anyone.  Anything I say gets twisted around and it's just not worth it.

I banked on Dina feeling lonely and wanting to chat a little about her expectant bun in the oven.  I don't know if she is being cautious, but she did not seem enthused.

"I can't believe how big I am," she moaned.  "Already six months and I've gained ten pounds.  I can't imagine getting any bigger.  Some of my clothes don't fit right."

For the record, she should have gained more than ten pounds by the end of the second trimester.

She said that she tried for two years to get pregnant by her husband, and then as soon as she was with someone else, "instant pregnancy."

As for her husband, she had this to say:
"He changed once we got married.  He became suspicious, accusing me of having affairs with men at work.  He was always with me, so he knows that I never met up with any of these guys.  I offered to quit, to change my shift, be reassigned to a different area of the hospital, but he said no.  I just couldn't take it anymore."

I praised her.  "People are jealous of you.  You were in a bad relationship, you wanted to have a baby, so you went for it.  Most people would not make such bold moves but instead would languish in an unhappy relationship just to say that they are married and making it work."

I'm not surprised that this marriage failed and that she didn't see it coming.  The husband is stupid yet confident in his beliefs.  Last week, he kept calling out to me when I was on a ward.  I ignored him.  If he wants me, he can come to me, but I would prefer that he ignore me forever.  I don't go running like a dog when he calls me.  Finally he intercepted me.  "You dyed your hair.  I like it."

"I didn't," I answered and kept walking.

He smiled, winked, and said, "Yeah, you did.  It's darker.  I like it."

I left.  His opinion of my hair is irrelevant and not welcome.  He dismissed my correction because he had already decided that I dyed my hair and wanted to hear his compliment.

These are the clues that Dina missed.  He is always correct, period, end of story.

The hospital is saying bad things about this couple, but there is a tide of sympathy aimed at the husband.  "We warned him about her."  He's no prize himself and played a vital role in the ruination of their marriage.

Sunday, April 24, 2016

Transferring the Final Responsibility

My supervisor’s call outs are falling into a pattern. I heard that she has taken another job part-time. She tells me nothing personal.

A medical assistant is assigned to the same area of the hospital as I am. I won’t use the term “work” because she does no work. She has one doctor to help once a week.

She timed her performance for a day when my supervisor was out.

She decided that her one doctor was now my responsibility. When he asked for assistance with a patient, she started screaming.

“Why ain’t you asking HER to help you with the patient? Why you asking ME? SHE is the NURSE. It is HER JOB to help doctors and patients. Why you coming after ME for? Go tell HER!”

I was in a room assisting a doctor with a patient. More were in the waiting room. I ignored the screaming. My doctor gave me a confused look. I shrugged.

The scorned doctor appeared in the exam room. Never mind patient privacy or interrupting the doctor in the middle of a procedure. “Can you help me over here?” he asked.

“She’s busy with me!” my doctor quipped. “Tell that assistant of yours that there is no reason why she can’t help you with your one patient.”

After that doctor left, my doctor turned to me and said, “Do people barge in and yell at you when you are with other doctors?”

I thought for a moment. “I guess so,” I answered. “I didn’t realize that this happened all the time.”

“Well, it happens every time I’m here,” the doctor observed to me.

My supervisor has not said anything to me yet. The medical assistant has ignored me since then, which is great. She is a piece of trash who does nothing all day every day. I don’t understand why she is protected.

Wednesday, April 13, 2016

Baby on the Way

Guess who is (finally) pregnant!  Dina.

She is the vulgar woman who went after me because her husband wants me.  She characterized the situation as my wanting him.

Anyway, in the last several months, the husband has approached me to resume our relationship, which we never had, claiming that his marriage was over.

Dina was actively seeking fertility boosts last year.  Then I overheard Dina crying on the phone about having to pay rent after she moved out and I saw her openly flirting with several male coworkers at the hospital.

Now the buzz around the hospital is: Who is the father?

Bets are not on the husband.  His first wife had a baby on her own after their marriage ended.  Dina's pregnancy is calculated to have occurred after their split.

I don't like to rely on rumors.  Dina answered the phone when I called a ward, so I congratulated her.  She sang, "Thank you," and added, "The whole hospital is talking about me."

I don't understand how they show their faces day after day.  They are probably unemployable elsewhere.