rainien, posts by tag: work - LiveJournal

THIS was on my Facebook page a little while ago:

Sometimes we lose sight of life's simple pleasures. Remember it takes 42 muscles in your face to frown, but only 4 muscles to extend your arm and bitchslap that motherfucker upside the head.

Sage advice, to be sure. *nods*

THAT reminds me that working in an office of only five people - all women - is only asking for someone to get bitchslapped, even if you only do it mentally. It's like working in a hormonal train wreck. Of the five of us, one has already gone through menopause naturally. One needs to have a hysterectomy. Two have already had a hysterectomy (one of them had hers in February and it'll take up to six months to get her hormone replacement regulated). Then there's me; the only woman in the building on a daily basis who has hormones that work properly. If I hear one more coworker blame her poor attitude on malfunctioning hormones, I really might bitchslap someone.

Malfunctioning hormones are neither my fault nor my problem. I was talking to my mom about it the other day. She's been through menopause and took hormone replacement for about two months before she decided she just didn't like it. We both agree that far too many women use their hormones as an excuse to be a bitch.

This is not to say that I have no sympathy for women who are forced by a medical condition (such as hysterectomy), to take hormone replacement. I feel for them. I has to suck big fat donkey dicks. BUT, if a coworker walks into work and says, "I'm sorry if I'm a bitch today, but my hormone pills just don't seem to be working today," then they're able to dredge up a polite tone of voice and a smile for patients, but then turn around and bite my head off, I'm going to have to call BULL SHIT on that excuse. If they're able to control their hormones enough to be polite to one person, they can be polite to me as well.

End of Rant.

AND THE OTHER(S)...

The kittens have been spending more and more time outside the nest. They've taken to napping in random places in the middle of my bedroom floor. It makes navigating my room in the semi-dark rather dangerous. The carpet is brown and the kittens are all (except one) dark. I have to remind myself to turn on the lamp before I start moving around. More than once I've put my foot down on a napping kitten. Thankfully none of them have actually been stepped on just yet. Yes, they're sweet little furballs, but they're taking over my room and I DON'T LIKE IT. I want my room back. They're venturing further and further from the nest, though, and it probably won't be long before they're exploring the rest of the house and I might then be able to reclaim my bedroom.

Not a bad day at work today - very busy though.

The local community college men's basketball team came in today for sport physicals. The whole team. At once. In addition to our regularly scheduled patients. Hectic. Yeah.

I was in charge of getting weight and height measurements on all the boys. Thankfully the coach helped out on the height thing. I'm 5'2" and some of these boys were well over six feet tall. I just wasn't tall enough to get accurate measurements. Several of the boys moaned about not getting to add that extra fraction of an inch. The coach and I had agreed, though, that nothing less than an entire inch would be given for the purpose of the physicals. One player in particular bemoaned the fact that he'd been deemed "only" 6'3" instead of 6'3.5". I listened to him argue with the coach for a few minutes then decided I would have my say. I walked over to stand right in front of him and asked him to look at me. When he realized how far down he had to look in order to look me in the eye, we both had to grin.

"I'm 5'2"," I said. "I was 5'2" on the day of my 16th birthday. I will never be taller than I am right now. Actually, if I make it to be an old woman, I'll likely be shorter than I am today. Do you really want to make a fuss about whether or not half an inch is written on a piece of paper?"

He had the audacity to laugh and pat me on the head! Then he sat in his seat and stopped complaining. I counted the silence well worth it.

So last Sunday night the phone conversation when somewhat like this:

Man (In a very heavy Indian accent)Thank you for calling HughesNet technical support. My name is Bob. How may I help you today?

Bob? Are you kidding me? BOB?? Do you really think giving yourself some overly-common non-Indian name is going to trick me into believing the call center is not in India?? I think I need a new modem. I've been having connectivity problems for a couple of weeks now and it's just getting worse.

[Insert all sorts of silly "troubleshooting" experiments while "Bob" taps away at his keyboard and reads whatever stupidity pops up on his monitor and Yours Truly tries valiantly to understand just what the hell he's saying.]

Finally...

Bob: It sounds like you need to purchase a new LAN line.

Me: A LAN line? You're not going to send me another modem?

Bob: We need to try a new LAN line first. I'm going to give you a case number and if the LAN line doesn't work you can call back and we'll go from there. OK?

Me: All right. Thank you. [writes down case number]

Monday I bought a new LAN line.

Man (In a very heavy Indian accent): Thank you for calling HughesNet technical support. My name is Steve. How may I help you today?

*head/desk* I have a case number. [gives said number]

Steve: Did the new LAN line work?

Me: Why the hell would I be calling you if the damn thing worked?? No. There's no change. I'm still unable to connect.

Steve: [pecking away at keyboard] Let me put you on hold for one moment while I transfer you to Advanced Support.

Me: [cheering because Advanced Support is in the US] Ok. No problem. [waits]

Man (In a perfectly generic Midwest American accent)Are you there, Ms. H?

Me: Yes.

Man: This is Brian with HughesNet Advanced Support. It looks like you need a new modem.

Me: [feeling stuck in the land of overly-common names] *laughing* I think that's what I told Bob last night.

[verifies shipping address]

Brian: Your new modem should arrive by FedEx in a couple of days. [gives additional instructions]

A couple of days later...

Modem? Nope.

A couple more days later...

Modem? Nope.

Finally, nearly a friggin WEEK later, I have a new modem. I'm zooming around the Webs once again. I can actually read my Friends page. I can open my email. Pages don't time out. Everything works! And the best part of all? I didn't have to call technical support for any assistance like Brian threatened I might have to!!

*sigh* I admit it. Nothing brings out the Ugly American in me more quickly than being routed to an overseas call center. It's a failing in me, I know. I just can't seem to help it. When I'm having a problem, I want to speak to someone who speaks English as a FIRST language - someone who doesn't have an accent so thick I can barely understand what the hell they're saying. The whole reason my modem problem got so bad before I called tech support is because I didn't want to deal with the language barrier. Procrastination much?

Anyway. I'm up and running again and loving the new modem. It's made of much loveliness.

In local news...

Work continues to be a lot of work. At least a third of the patients continue to be idiots. Another third seem to want to live their lives in a medicated fog. The other third are too healthy for their own damn good and we don't see them nearly enough to make up for the other two-thirds. Despite all of this, I'm still loving my job because it keeps me busy all day.

In even more local news...

The boys went back to school today. Older Son is now a sophomore. Yikes! After one minor adjustment made to his schedule last week, I'm pleased with all of his classes. Younger Son is in sixth grade. When I told him today that after he finishes this year he'll be half-way finished with school (not counting college), he didn't quite know how to react. LOL He didn't know if he wanted to be a glass-half-full or glass-half-empty kind of person about this bit of information. The day went well aside from Younger Son having homework on the first day. He seems to think this is some sort of omen.

Pete continues to be a source of drama and entertainment around the house. He's growing by leaps and bounds. I had to intervene yesterday when he climbed as high as he could in preparation of taking a flying leap at a moth that was flitting around in front of the curtains in the living room. I could just see massive rips in the curtains resulting when the proposed flying leap resulted in nothing but cloth and claws.

In extended family news...

My step-brother was cutting down a tree last week and the friggin' thing fell on him. I'm not quite sure how it happened. The short version is that a rather large-ish tree fell across both of his knees and he was pinned underneath for about an hour. Friends were finally able to move the tree and step-brother was taken to the hospital. The good news is that he can still walk - a miracle all its own. The bad news (delivered today) is that the cartilage in both knees has been completely destroyed and he's going to need total replacement of both knees. He came to see me at work today after he was given the news. *eye roll* He hadn't even told his wife yet. she's a bitch He says he's not going to tell the parents yet because they'd just worry and he wants to work a little longer and try to pay off a few more debts before he faces possible permanent disability.

I tried to talk him into letting the parents know. I would want to know if one of my sons was facing something like this. It's not my place to tell it, though, so I'll just keep my mouth shut for now and hope he tells them soon. *sigh* I really hate to keep this secret. Mom and Step-dad deserve to know.

Ok. Enough rambling from me. I've got loads and loads of catching up to do. My inbox runneth over. Much to be read. Huggles to all because I've sooooo missed being here this past week!

So here's the scenario:

Last Friday I was at work, trying desperately to keep up with what turned out to be an amazingly, horribly busy day at work. We usually accept walk-in or same-day appointments, but on this particular day there was no room for additional appointments.

The phone rang around 10:00 and I gave my usual greeting. This is what followed...

"Would it be possible to get my daughter in to see the doctor today?"

"I'm sorry. We're all full up. What seems to be the problem?"

"My daughter is 18 months old. I gave her orange tropical punch last night and, maybe I should have watered it down. I'm not sure. But she's been throwing up all morning."

"Have you ever given her that kind of tropical punch before?"

"Well, she's had red tropical punch before, but not the orange."

"Does she have a rash? Fever? Anything like that?"

"No, just the vomiting."

"Have we seen her here at the clinic before?"

"Yes, her name is ..."

"Let me get your phone number and if the nurse gets a moment she'll give you a call. It sounds like a reaction to the tropical punch, though."

"Okay. In the mean time I'll start mixing the punch half with water."

"Nooooo. Do you have any other juice to give her? Something like pear juice or white grape?"

"Well, yeah, but I like to give her new things."

"Ma'am, tropical punch is full of citric acid. If she's sick to her stomach you do not want to give that to her, even watered down. Not to mention that it's probably the punch that's making her sick in the first place. Stop giving her the tropical punch and give her something else. If she continues to be sick, take her to the hospital."

"Are you sure?"

Aside from the fact I've got two children who made it past 18 months old... "Yes, Ma'am. I'm sure."

I later relayed the conversation to the nurse. She rolled her eyes and said there was no need to call the woman back because I'd already said what needed to be said - and more nicely than she'd have said it. LOL Bless her heart. L has no patience for people she feels are idiots.

And you can all thank veritas03. She lured me out of my hidey-hole with WAFFLES! Thank you so much, love. Goodness! They were covered with strawberries and CHOCOLATE! Well worth leaving my den of summer hibernation. *hugs*

So...In no particular order, I've been...

1) Either taking the boys somewhere, or picking them up. They're currently at their grandparents' for the week and I'll be picking them up this weekend. I swear they're not going anywhere for the rest of the summer. I've hardly had more than a day or so at a time with Older Son. His birthday is next Wednesday; he'll be 16. *sniffle*

2) Working. A lot. Even on days I should have off. This leads to...

3) Coming to the conclusion that there are far too many people in this country taking far too many prescription narcotics. In the last seven days I've been a) threatened with bodily harm by the brother of a patient the doctor wouldn't give Lortab b)harassed endlessly for "badly needed" refills for Lortab, Xanax, Valium, Soma, etc. c) scheduled uncounted appointments at pain management clinics for patients who've been abusing said pain meds and d) finding far too many of our new patients on the Oklahoma Drug Tracker website to find that they've been seeing multiple physicians and getting multiple prescriptions for controlled substances.

Question: Why does someone who states to suffer from "chronic pain" drive over 100 miles to see a doctor? And we're not talking about a specialist here. This is just an ordinary family practice clinic.

Answer: All the doctors in the patient's area already know that the patient is abusing their meds and won't give them any more! Hello! We may be from a small town, but we're not stupid!

This is not to say I don't believe there really are people who suffer horribly from chronic pain! I know they exist because there are plenty of those who come to the clinic as well. It's just that the ones who abuse their meds make it even more difficult for those not abusing.

4) Completely ignoring my garden. It looks like shit. This ends tomorrow, though. It's my day off and I intend to spend the morning doing what I can to gain control of matters once again.

*sigh* This isn't to say that I won't be going in to work in the afternoon. There's a mountain of paperwork piling up that I just can't tend to during clinic hours. It'll be too hot in the afternoon for garden work, anyway, so I might as well be productive at something. There's an old man who's diabetic and can't afford his insulin. His insurance won't cover it and this particular insulin is the only thing that works for him. Gotta get the paperwork filled out so the pharmaceutical company will maybe just give it to him. All the pharmaceutical companies have programs like this, but they don't like giving their meds to people who have insurance. Nevermind that the insurance won't cover it... *is determined*

5) Playing far too many computer games. Don't ask. It's an addiction, I admit. lol At least it's not controlled substances!

Anyway, that's what I've been up to. I have been reading my Friends page at least semi-regularly; just not commenting. Sorry for that. Just been in one of my hibernate-when-I-can moods.

Hugs again for veritas03, just because.

In my last post, I talked about the sudden increase in hours I've suddenly been given at work. Well, today I got another shock.

See, I used to work the front desk at a local doctor's office. It was stressful and there was always some sort of drama and there was always something going on...and then I was let go because of office politics I refused to be a part of.

Fast forward to a year ago, when they started talking about bringing me back. Certain trouble-makers were on their way out. It never really panned out...until today. As of Friday, all of the previous trouble-makers are g o n e and they're now desperate for some help. So imagine my surprise when the head nurse at the doctor's office called today wondering if I'd please-please-pretty-please come back to work for them. Same number of hours I'm getting now - only it's four days a week instead of five. No nights. No weekends. About $1.50 per hour more in pay.

*sigh* It's a risk, but I'm going to have to take it. My current job defines "dead end job." Absolutely no possibility for advancement. At least with the clinic job I'm back in an office, using my brain again, working steady hours - daytime, weekday hours.

I know it'll still be stressful and there'll still be drama. LOL The nurse practitioner in the office cannot function without drama. I could very well get stabbed in the back again. But, dammit, I've got to take the risk.

New/old job starts next Monday. Here's me crossing my fingers, hoping it works out.

First: My garden has gone to hell in a handbasket. Weeds!!! They're everywhere. I think the mulch had seeds in it because I did not have this many weeds last year. Must go out shortly and see if I can't make some progress on that front.

Second: The boys are doing well. Week two of Older Son's summer program went better than week one in that he didn't get his money stolen this time. He's still enjoying himself so it's all good. Younger Son spent most of this week missing his brother, which meant it was a very long week for Yours Truly trying to keep Younger Son entertained and occupied. He'll be going to Bible School in the evenings this week, so I should get a little quiet time in the evenings, at least. Then next week he's going to church camp and will be gone all week. *sigh* I don't know which of us is more looking forward to this.

Third: Until recently, I've been working two jobs, neither of which provide very many hours and therefore not much pay. My primary job is as a home health provider. Not a nurse or nurse's aid. I so household chores for those who are unable to do them for themselves. This keeps them out of nursing homes for just a bit longer, which is always good. Until recently, I've only been getting about 10 hours a week on that job. My other job has been as a housekeeper for a lady with a house far too big for just herself and her husband. That job is only one day a week, though.

Then Thursday my scheduler for the first job called me and said that another provider is about to go on maternity leave and they have 24 hours that are opening up and she wanted to know if I'd take them. The house is very close to mine (less than half a mile away) so I agreed. This jumps my hours from 10 a week to 34. And after June I'll be working a bit every third weekend and that'll increase my hours on that week to 43. Of course, this means I can't keep house for the too-big house, but the lady there understands that I have to look out for my family first. The increase in hours (and pay) will help tremendously! It'll cut into my online time, but at this point it's really no contest. Things were about to get desperate around here. Truthfully, if it wasn't for the child support that the state forces my ex-husband to pay, we'd have encountered dire circumstances long before now.

In other news...

Older Son noticed that Alice in Wonderland was available on Pay Per View and insisted we watch it yesterday. I finally gave in and Family Movie Night ensued. Interesting movie. Tim Burton's movies are never my favorites; just a little too much weirdness for my tastes. But, hey, Johnny!! Johnny's Mad Hatter is not as mad as the Hatter in the Disney cartoon, but that's just fine with me. I thought it was hilarious that he'd adopt this William Wallace accent every time he got angry. Too funny. And Alan Rickman is the voice of the Caterpillar; can't forget to mention that one! I love Alan Rickman's voice. Helena Bonham Carter provides the voice of the Red Queen and of course she brings just the right touch of homicidal mania to the character.

Costumes were excellent, as were sets, and animation and other effects. All in all a decent flick. Would I have paid to see it at the theater? No. But I'll likely end up purchasing the blu-ray at some point.

Cuz I am D O N E!

Or, at least the four-day weekend from HELL is done. Four days of caring for an invalid three times a day is FINISHED. "Exhausted" doesn't even begin to cover it.

Sure, it wasn't a huge number of hours each day. But this is a "total care" patient. She contracted meningitis when she was nine months old. This means that all brain growth stopped at that point. She can't do anything for herself. She's a 29-year-old with the mind of an infant. She can't talk, but has a vocabulary of sounds that she uses to express different moods and feelings. She's a sweet girl - but exhausting to care for.

I usually care for her two evenings a week, then the last weekend of the month. (Three times a day on that weekend.) Her other caregiver asked for Thursday and Friday off so I got landed with FOUR DAYS of doing what usually takes two people in different shifts.

Thankfully, the girl lives (with her parents) less than a mile from my house so I was able to come home between shifts. It's just that having to be there for breakfast, lunch, and dinner breaks the day up into several very small pieces. LOL It seems like I've been at that house more than I have my own for the last four days.

I can honestly say that I've never looked forward to a Monday more in my entire life. One three-hour shift at a different house is all I have tomorrow. Easy day. I can't wait.

In other news, the boys came home from their grandparents' today. They had a good time, but were glad to be home. (LOL And they're not looking forward to Monday after having the past week off from school.

During my longest break from work today (a whole 3.5 hours), we snuggled up on my bed to watch Star Trek. I had already told them how much I enjoyed it and they were really looking forward to it. LMAO Five minutes into the movie and Older Son had to tackle me and tell me that he loved me because I "like cool scifi movies instead of dumb, boring chick flicks."

Younger Son hasn't been the Trekkie that Older Son has been becoming, so some of the points of the movie didn't have as much impact on him, but he enjoyed the movie anyway. I'll make a Trekkie out of him yet!

In an update from this post, I spoke to the woman who is looking for someone to clean her house. She said she can give me the same number of hours that I lost, and at a couple dollars more an hour.

It's more money, and better hours, but it I still feel like I've lost a friend and a link back to my dad.

I planned on being a fan of something completely different today. Instead, as of an hour ago, I am a fan of HONESTY.

Maybe a little background is necessary before I go into the whole story.

I work in home health as a personal care provider. I cook, clean house, do laudry and run errands for people who are no longer able to do these things for themselves. It's not the most exciting job on the planet, nor the most mentally challenging. It's usually the most stress-free job I've ever had.

One of the homes I've been going to is the home of a man who was one of my dad's best friends. I've known him since I was a little girl. He's confined to a motorized chair because of severe arthritis in his knees. I go to his home twice a day, five days a week. We'll just call him W.

Moving on...

I got a call from the office early this afternoon, asking that I come in because the office manager needed to talk to me. Anyone ever notice that it's rarely a good thing when the office manager wants to talk to you? When I got there, the office manager said that W's case manager had been to his house this morning and he'd told the case manager that there were several things missing from the house: bowls, a set of steak knives, money. Apparently, he wouldn't deny that it was possible that I could have taken these things.

What he DIDN'T tell the case manager is that he's got a friend who comes over quite often who is a crazy assed BITCH and has taken stuff out of his house right in front of him. I'm not just saying she's crazy as a matter of opinion. She really is crazy as in taking meds and seeing a shrink twice a week. She's fucking CRAZY.

But, nooooo W couldn't tell the case manager that he lets a crazy bitch steal him blind whenever she wants. He had to offer ME up as the sacrificial goat.

As a result, I've been pulled from working at his home and have lost 16 hours a week from my already thin schedule. I'm now down to ten hours a week. TEN.

The office manager said that a lot of times when this happens, the patient/customer (W, in this case) often realizes after a couple of weeks that it wasn't the provider stealing from them and asks for their provider (me, in this case) back. FUCK THAT. If he can't or won't trust me enough to believe from the outset that I've not been stealing from him, he can put up with a stranger who won't take NEARLY as good care of him as I did.

They're going to *try* to find another home or two to replace at least some of the hours that I've lost because of this. Lovely.

I do have one option. Another of the homes I visit belongs to the owner of the home health agency. (Her daughter is a 28-year-old infant.) They live in a friggin mansion - literally. The owner was asking me Tuesday if I know anyone who cleans houses. She said she'd be willing to pay $80 - $100 a day for someone to come clean her house. Looks like I'll be putting my own name in for the job. If she needs somebody more than one day a week, I'd be doing better than before my hours got cut. We'll see.

In the mean time, I'm worried, pissed off, hurt, confused, MAD AS HELL.