I Wish To Register a Complaint
There are days when the things I hear from my peers made me cringe. I just heard one of my colleagues saying, "He did not did that." More than once. Now, I sometimes write grammatically challenged characters, but that's one I never considered. Ye gods.
It's not a great day at work today. I'm in one of the departments where you can't get anything done because morons ring up every five minutes, apparently under the impression that doctors don't actually ... you know, attend clinics or do ward rounds or see patients or anything. Which means I get an earful of grief from patients who want to talk to the consultant, and will not accept that the consultant is busy. And actually not in the room. And for all I know, might actually be in an entirely different part of the hospital. Or even in their private practice. Seriously, I wish that patients could get it through their skulls that they are not a doctor's only patient. This seems to be a tricky one for people to grasp. Doctors have many patients. No one patient is any doctor's priority. And they do not sit around the admin offices, waiting for patients to call.
(It is also not my fault that one of the nurses is an unpleasant mare-beast who refuses to answer the phone and passes off dealing with patients as often as possible because she 'doesn't want to be bothered with the aggravation'. Man, I wanted to hit her when she said that.)
I'm so glad it's another bank holiday coming up Friday. My sinuses are killing me. I know it's not a popular view, but I do not like the spring and summer. Give me autumn every damn time. Less pollen, less killing sunshine, more pretty leaves. Though I admit that the reason for the bank holiday still galls me. I can't go to the staff canteen without William and Kate grinning at me from this big Union Jack wedding celebration banner thing on the wall. It's decidedly creepy. Also, one of the Facebook games I play has got in on it, with royal-wedding-themed quests and things. I get that I live in the city where it's all going down and thus I cannot expect to escape from it, but ... seriously? Stupid Facebook flash games?
This griping, grousing blog post brought to you by a fed-up secretary who just wants to go home and RP/play some Dragon Age and not have to deal with patients who cannot even answer a simple question the likes of "And what's the message?" but still manages to answer the phone all cheerful-polite-businesslike ever single godsdamned time.
(Also, consultants who add a PS to every letter at the very end of a tape after all the letters have been typed, forcing a secretary to go back to every single letter and make alterations ... they must die, they must die, they must die. Thank you.)
It's not a great day at work today. I'm in one of the departments where you can't get anything done because morons ring up every five minutes, apparently under the impression that doctors don't actually ... you know, attend clinics or do ward rounds or see patients or anything. Which means I get an earful of grief from patients who want to talk to the consultant, and will not accept that the consultant is busy. And actually not in the room. And for all I know, might actually be in an entirely different part of the hospital. Or even in their private practice. Seriously, I wish that patients could get it through their skulls that they are not a doctor's only patient. This seems to be a tricky one for people to grasp. Doctors have many patients. No one patient is any doctor's priority. And they do not sit around the admin offices, waiting for patients to call.
(It is also not my fault that one of the nurses is an unpleasant mare-beast who refuses to answer the phone and passes off dealing with patients as often as possible because she 'doesn't want to be bothered with the aggravation'. Man, I wanted to hit her when she said that.)
I'm so glad it's another bank holiday coming up Friday. My sinuses are killing me. I know it's not a popular view, but I do not like the spring and summer. Give me autumn every damn time. Less pollen, less killing sunshine, more pretty leaves. Though I admit that the reason for the bank holiday still galls me. I can't go to the staff canteen without William and Kate grinning at me from this big Union Jack wedding celebration banner thing on the wall. It's decidedly creepy. Also, one of the Facebook games I play has got in on it, with royal-wedding-themed quests and things. I get that I live in the city where it's all going down and thus I cannot expect to escape from it, but ... seriously? Stupid Facebook flash games?
This griping, grousing blog post brought to you by a fed-up secretary who just wants to go home and RP/play some Dragon Age and not have to deal with patients who cannot even answer a simple question the likes of "And what's the message?" but still manages to answer the phone all cheerful-polite-businesslike ever single godsdamned time.
(Also, consultants who add a PS to every letter at the very end of a tape after all the letters have been typed, forcing a secretary to go back to every single letter and make alterations ... they must die, they must die, they must die. Thank you.)