Wednesday, August 24, 2016

Floating on a Cloud


My supervisor lent me out to another department.  I covered there in the past.  In this role, I facilitate movements from crisis to short term to long term placements.

The person I am covering does not want me near her department.  She wants her friend to cover.  The friend is an idiot, so management wants someone who can actually do the job.  Me.

The day was terrible, but I handled it so well.  The day was engineered to be one disaster after another, but I simply laughed and went on.  I am so proud of myself.

First, to get into the office, I have to convince security or maintenance to let me in.  My immediate supervisor happened by when security was about to lend me the key.

“But you have the key!” my supervisor chimed.

“I do not,” I answered.

“I saw it on your keychain,” she insisted.

“How would you distinguish any key from another by sight?” I asked her.  She didn’t follow this reasoning.  I convinced the security guard to let me in anyway.

Once in, I quickly discovered messes.  The director had set up transfers into beds that were not available.  The census would be over.  Tragically over.

When the main secretary arrived late, I was next door, trying to straighten a mess with a secretary in setting up new patient records.  As I walked back into the office, this main secretary was on the phone.  “Oh, she just walked in now,” she said.  “I’m transferring a call to you, Enid.”

I picked up.  It was the director.  “Why are you late?” she started.

“I’m not late.  I’ve been here for almost two hours,” I asserted.

“The secretary said you are just walking in now,” she insisted.

“She meant that I was not at the desk, but instead was at someone else’s desk on a work-related matter, where she saw me thirty seconds earlier,” I answered, annoyed at both of them.  Troublemakers.

“Enid, I’m getting calls on my cell phone.  You can’t put two patients in the same bed.  What are you doing?” she scolded me.

“You made these arrangements yesterday.  I am fixing the messes that you created in anticipation of my arrival today,” I stated.

I’m not pretending that her mistakes are innocent.  Let the Big Wigs see that she screws the hospital to try to make me look bad.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” she defended.  “If you can’t handle a simple patient transfer, then you can’t cover for me when I am out.”

“You’re stuck with me until I’m promoted,” I said and hung up on her.  They won’t promote me.  But she fears they will, so I’ll feed into her delusions.

Massive confusion and anger ensued the rest of the day when doctors and social workers realized that their patients were not being transferred as the director had arranged yesterday.

I, however, felt fine.

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