Friday, August 26, 2016

Confusing Handwriting


Upon returning from a few days off, my supervisor told me that a woman named Ellie kept calling for me.  I have no idea who she is.

For the rest of the day, Ellie called for me, but always when I had just stepped out of the office.  Near the end of the day, I was in an exam room with a doctor and patient when I heard my supervisor frantically yelling, “You can’t go in there.”

A woman hollered back, “I have waited long enough!” and burst into the exam room, focused only on me.  She shoved a paper at me, which I did not take.

“Excuse me, you are violating patient privacy!” I snapped at her.  I remembered her clueless self lurking around a few months ago.

“YOU refuse to answer your phone when I call,” Ellie snapped back.

“Get out!” the doctor hissed.  Ellie stood there, just realizing that other people were in the exam room.  “Get out!” the doctor yelled this time.

Ellie huffed out.  She and the supervisor exchanged negative observations about me in the hall, such as, “I don’t know why she won’t do something as simple as answer a phonecall” and “She doesn’t normally take this long in the exam room.  She is making you wait on purpose.”

When the patient left, Ellie and the supervisor charged into the room, nevermind sanitation.  “Are you still too busy?” Ellie said sarcastically.  My supervisor was staring at me, half scared, half angry.

“What is it that you need?” I asked.

Ellie held out the paper in her hand and pointed to a spot.  “I can’t read this word.  What does it say?”

I craned my neck to look while holding out my soiled gloves, making Ellie jump.  She held a copy of a hand-written doctor’s note that had nothing to do with me.

“I don’t know.  What does it say?” I asked Ellie, smiling.

“I have to transcribe this, but I can’t if I can’t read it,” Ellie said in a nasty tone.

“Of course not,” I added.

“So what does it say?” Ellie blurted, annoyed.

“How would I know?  Why don’t you ask the doctor who scribbled it?” I suggested, still smiling at her, hoping to convey that she was acting like an idiot.

Ellie stood there with phases of confusion washing over her face.  “Isn’t that you?” she tried.
My supervisor was also confused.

I glanced at the paper again and said, “No, I am not Dr Michael Smith.  I am Nurse Enid Mueller."  I stood there, smiling, blinking.

“Is this why you’ve been calling so much?” my supervisor asked Ellie.  “Why didn’t you just tell me what you wanted and I would have told you that she has nothing to do with this doctor?”

Ellie mumbled and fled.

"What was that for?" my supervisor asked me.  I shrugged.

Completely normal in this place.  Think something weird and then get mad at others when acting on these bizarre thoughts.


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