A friend of mine (Mike Sawin, whose Blog can be found at http://michaelsawin.tripod.com/sawinstuff/id4.html), was lamenting earlier this week about losing his job earlier this year and how awful that feeling was. I was going to send him a cheery little message to “Buck Up, Little Camper!� and Be Of Good Cheer, when I realized I’ve been through three jobs already this year myself.
Hmmph!
This, of course, begs the question of whether (a) I’m just so incredibly annoying I can’t hold a job for long, (b) I have such a low tolerance for B.S. that it makes my holding a job for long problematic, or (c) something other. And, after a great deal of soul-searching on my part, I’ve come to honestly believe (no, really!) It’s a combination of both (b) and (c).
(B) I can work on – but (c) is a problem area.
Looking back on it, the longest times I’ve held jobs were in the Army (15 years) and the limousine business (almost 5 years). The problems seem to come into play when I’m in the Nursing field; specifically, the civilian side of the Nursing Field; which brings to mind a funny story.
I was applying for a job in Indiana one time about, say, spring of 1993 or 1994. I was waiting for my 10am appointment with the Director of Nursing at the place, and as I sat there, the UPS lady came in with a package and her clipboard. The receptionist calls into the D.O.N.’s office: “Your 10 AM approintment is here; and UPS just arrived.�
Two seconds later the (female) D.O.N. whooshes out of her office, handing me the UPS package, saying “That needs to be there tomorrow.� She then grabs the UPS lady by the arm and runs her into the office for the interview.�
MY interview.
Now, mind you, I’m in a shirt, tie, and professional attire for the interview. The UPS lady was wearing those brown Dickies shorts and top they always wear. Nevertheless, she was taken in for the interview, and I got the package. Why?
Because I’m the Male, and she was the Female; and it’s a Nursing Job. (The sad part of this is that this D.O.N. interviewed this lady for almost ***three minutes*** while I cooled my heels outside; then when she realized her mistake, she came back out and spent almost a half-hour convincing me I wouldn’t like it at her facility, and that I should be a “Home Health Nurse.� (Frankly, the last place I wanted to be; but she just wanted to avoid a sexual discrimination lawsuit, I’m sure. Not that I’d sue, but I’m sure she was worried.)
Were this my only story it’d almost be funny, but it’s not. I have literally hundreds of stories of being addressed as “Doctor� in hospitals and clinics by both patients **and** staff; and other, lesser incidents as well. One place I worked recently had a softball team that literally Everyone played on except me (whether they wanted to or not); It was an all-female league, and they didn’t want to move to the co-ed leagues just for me. (That was my Second job this year.)
So, anyway, I have this new job. I’m working for an governmental agency that works with mental health clients (which they call “consumers� here in Texas). I’m one of three nurses that oversee the MR (Mental Retardation) consumers for San Antonio. It’s a lot of driving, but I get mileage, so that’s good for me! Plus I love to drive, as my stint with the limousine business showed quite well. We do very little actual “hands-on� care, but a lot of home visits, sitting and talking with the clients, Nursing Health Assessments, and tons of government paperwork.
Fortunately, my Army Training in “Mountains of Paperwork� works well for me here, as do my Obsessive-Compulsive traits and computer skills. I’ve also made a little “shingle� (as my supervisor laughingly calls it) that marks our office as the “Nursing� office, which everyone in the little building adores. In fact, I had to make on for my Supervisor; she liked ours that much. (Artsy-Crafty stuff is my method of releasing stress after a challenging day.)
So, basically, I get to drive all over town; hug all my consumers, work on the computer the rest of the day, and show off my Artsy-Crafty Skills. This is literally my Dream Job of a lifetime.
So, anyway, I said all that to say this: I was visiting one of my consumers for the first time, and here he comes walking over to where I was sitting. Little old man in his 70's with little funny round ears, thick glasses, pork-pie hat, receding chin (with matching receding hairline), deep-sunken eyes, and double hearing aids.
God help me – but it was my Uncle Howard!
My consumer had a diagnosis of “Fragile X Syndrome,� which is a malformation of the 23rd (male) chromosome. Men with this diagnosis tend to look like my Uncle Howard – almost exactly – and to share certain traits, like slowness of mind, regularity of habits, and practicing “hoarding� or saving things in their pockets or apartments.
Just like my Uncle Howard. So it appears my cousin Nancy was right after all; perhaps moreso than we ever expected.
Man, I **LOVE** this job!
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