Twice a year, a mobile service comes to the hospital to do health screenings on the patients.
Last year, my supervisor, Linda, set up the dates for this year so that we would get the first time slot of the day. I specifically remember her doing this. She ordered me out of the trailer while she spoke to the staff. When she emerged, she proudly declared her foresight in setting up the appointments a year in advance to get the choice times.
“When are the dates? I asked.
“That doesn’t concern you!” she snapped at me.
She didn’t write the dates on the master calendar or otherwise convey them me.
On Friday, I answered the phone. The mobile service was calling to confirm that they are coming on Monday.
I checked with my supervisor.
“No!” she shook her head. “I did not set a date with them!”
“You did,” I countered. “You didn’t share the date with anyone, but I remember you setting it up inside the trailer.”
The issue with them coming with no notice is that we don’t have time to compile the lists of eligible patients for the various tests, get their written consent, and get orders from the doctors.
So the date was pushed back a few weeks.
Later, my supervisor asked if I was getting her emails. “No,” I answered.
“Well, I’ve sent out a lot about the mobile testing. I don’t want you going around and telling people that I don’t send you emails when you are the one who refuses to receive them,” the brat continued.
“Listen,” I said, “You can’t refuse to receive an email. You do not understand how email works, and I am tired of you telling people that I don’t read my email when in actuality, you never sent me email.” Her face was contorting into anger. “Show me the email you sent me with my email address listed as a recipient.”
“Right here,” she declared, turning her computer monitor towards me.
(She has not let me see her monitor in a very long time. She turns it off if I enter the room.) It was an email about the mobile testing, signed from the both of us.
I pointed to the line of recipients. “My name is not here, so you did not send this email to me.”
“Your name is on this email,” she insisted. “See? It says, ‘From Linda and Enid.’ So you can’t say you didn’t get it.”
I stared at her for a moment. It’s not just that she doesn't grasp computers and email, but she then runs with it in a crusade against me. When she tells people that I pretend to not receive email, they don’t ask if she actually sent the email. They simply believe her allegations against me without further probing.
“First, typing part of someone’s name in the body of the email does not generate a copy to that person,” I attempted to explain. “You have to go to the ‘To’ field and type the email address.” She was not following and instead was still with an angry face, as if all my words were lies. I continued.
“Second, you do not sign someone’s name to a letter without asking the person and sending them a copy, neither of which you did. If I had done this to you, you would have reported me to the director of the hospital. Again.”
As I turned to leave, she added more proof of her stupidity. “It doesn’t matter that I didn’t send it to you because it’s on the internet, so you can see it anyway.”
I shook my head and walked out.