Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Hubbas for my Orientation-For-New-Hires Trubbas
1. I have had to constantly remind myself that I am being paid for this. A week long orientation that is "business casual" and covers mission, vision, values, disaster plans and patient rights. (About that "business casual". I have quite the business casual collection from my corporate years. When I reached for them yesterday, they squinted at the closet light and nervously questioned their purpose. It has been two glorious years of jeans, sweatpants, shorts and best of all, scrubs. And now I have to spend a week in lined pants with button down tops and heels?! I am being paid for this. I am being paid for this.) I am bored to tears and want so very desperately to grab my Newsweek or my crossword puzzle out of my bag (brought along for only the most desperately boring of moments) and go to my mental happy-hour. But then I remind myself that I'm being paid for this and it probably wouldn't make the most stellar impression on my new employer.
2. On the upside, while I am in a room full of nurses with years of experience on me, I know shit they don't. Lots of shit, actually. Like where the employee garage is. The secret, fast ways around the hospital. What overhead pages sound like and mean. For every clinical rotation I have had in this hospital system I have had a mini orientation to the computers, the facility and have spent enough time in the place to know how everything there rolls. On the downside, for every clinical rotation I have had in this hospital system I have had a mini orientation to the computers, the facility and have spent enough time in the place to know how everything there rolls and I still have to sit through this. I am being paid for this. I am being paid for this.
3. Either I am getting older, more bitter and jaded, judgmental and impatient -- OR -- I am the butt of some cosmic joke. With the exception of my chosen career path -- I hate being in a room full of a personality cross-sections. For example: yesterday's orientation day was full of ALL the new hires, not just nurses. And while I'm sure some of those nurses would annoy me to the point of homicide, I was more referring to the OTHER new hires.
2. On the upside, while I am in a room full of nurses with years of experience on me, I know shit they don't. Lots of shit, actually. Like where the employee garage is. The secret, fast ways around the hospital. What overhead pages sound like and mean. For every clinical rotation I have had in this hospital system I have had a mini orientation to the computers, the facility and have spent enough time in the place to know how everything there rolls. On the downside, for every clinical rotation I have had in this hospital system I have had a mini orientation to the computers, the facility and have spent enough time in the place to know how everything there rolls and I still have to sit through this. I am being paid for this. I am being paid for this.
3. Either I am getting older, more bitter and jaded, judgmental and impatient -- OR -- I am the butt of some cosmic joke. With the exception of my chosen career path -- I hate being in a room full of a personality cross-sections. For example: yesterday's orientation day was full of ALL the new hires, not just nurses. And while I'm sure some of those nurses would annoy me to the point of homicide, I was more referring to the OTHER new hires.
- Like, say, dude in front of me with the super-heinous "hey, my 1992 middle school called and wants that gawd-awful short sleeved, button down orange silk shirt back" outfit with the white athletic socks with his dress shoes (hello, didn't you get the business casual memo??) who, incidentally looked like President Logan from 24 and Mick Jagger had a baby, had to raise his hand with either a pen like he was at a press conference or else with his "Red Rum" finger in the air as if he had something very pressing to say.
- The girl on the other side of the room who didn't look old enough to be a babysitter who prefaced every outloud thought (and there were many) with "So, this is my first job and all....." The same girl who, as we all knew well by the end of the day was starting her first real job in medical records, argued with the orientation-lady that she ought to be permitted to go to the nurses' clinical/patient orientation today, rather than her records training, because she was thinking about maybe going into patient care someday.
- The older woman who informed the "Disaster Preparedness" presenter who had only just explained that in the event of a disaster we're all "essential employees" that she didn't think she'd be able to respond to a hospital or local disaster unless she was able to attend to her feline's needs first.
- The lady behind me who felt very importantly about commenting on everything that was said throughout the day. Sometimes it was words: "Really." "Really?" "Wow." "Huh, I did-not-know that." "Guuurrrlll.." "Ha-ha! You said it." Sometimes it was just grunts of emotion: "Hm-mm-mmm" "*shocked "say what?" sound*". Really, though, sitting in front of her was kind of a full circle experience for me, though. See, I think she must be related to the family that I always end up sitting in front of in church every Sunday. These two women, mother and annoyingly annoying daughter, were apparently told that the congregational responses during the service and occasional hymns are secretly a competition to see 1. Who can say it faster and finish the last word of the phrase before the entire rest of the congregation and 2. Who can be heard best and loudest by the priest. And where's the husband/dad in all this? He's busy cooking up the worst halitosis this side of the diocese. So much so that it creeps over the pew into my pew and gags me. Apparently I complain about this family so much that the Betrothed suggested I sit somewhere else. Good idea.
- The woman behind me today who used to be a prison nurse at a high-security women's prison in the psych unit. Good LORD, you know she has some good stories. I'm working up the courage to start a conversation with her about her best shanking story. In addition to my appreciation of substance abuse as, what my pal Jenni called, a spectator sport for me, I do enjoy a good Lockdown show about prison culture -- repeating constantly to myself and anyone in the room that I wouldn't last a DAY in prison. My big mouth and my need to make inappropriate jokes would have me on the business end of a soap-in-sock attack before lunch. I accept that.
# posted by Cathy @ 7:13:00 PM 
