I talked to a girl named "Peaches" on the phone yesterday. I said her name out loud and the people around me in the call center started snickering. It was all I could do to not laugh as well. I'm basically a terrible person. But really, who names their kid "Peaches!?"\
I was taking out call ins the other day. Disney has this new rule (started in October so I guess it's not really new anymore) where you have to call in at least thirty minutes prior to your shift or else you get a "No Call No Show" or "NCNS" notation on your record card (basically a nasty red X that looks really bad and stays forever).
Well many cast members decide that it's a great idea to wait until 32 minutes before their shift begins to call in. Which would be fine, except that sometimes our department gets a backlog of calls and people sit on hold for five minutes before talking to us. And the rule is very specific in that you must be ACTIVELY speaking with a DA, calling in, more than 30 minutes prior. NOT "you must dial the phone number" thirty minutes prior.
This rule has been cause for much weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth. And also lying. I can see when we have hold times, and honestly, our hold times are almost never very bad. Two to three minutes at the max generally, if there's even a hold. I had a guy the other day swear to me that he was on hold for "at least twenty minutes, so this isn't fair at all!" Right.... okay.
Well my favorite excuse came yesterday. The cast member called in 24 minutes prior to his shift claiming that, "My uvula was hurting earlier, so I couldn't speak to call in. But it literally just starting feeling better just five minutes ago so I could finally call in." Nice try there, buddy. I told him to take it up with his manager if he wanted to fight it. That is entirely possible that the manager will have sympathy for his uvula problems.
And really, who am I to judge? Maybe his uvula really was causing trouble. Either way, my hands are tied. The union made me obey the black and white rules that were created, of course, by the union.
Thursday, March 19, 2015
Monday, March 2, 2015
Stories of the ER
I know it's been a long time, but with the changes in my life lately, I've felt the desire to crank up this here blog again. Seriously, my life is awesome.
I got a new job working in the Emergency Room at a local hospital. I. LOVE. IT. Now I understand what people mean when they talk about their "niche." It feels like home. I love the sounds of the ambulances and monitors, the varieties of people who I get to meet with and talk to, the things that I get to learn every single day, the paces, stresses, calmness, craziness, everything!
I don't love the smells.
Don't get me wrong, I still like Disney and I got to keep my job there too. It's been a beast keeping up with both and we'll see how that goes long term.
Here's my story:
I work registration, which is basically verifying information, primarily insurance, and then getting signatures of consents to treatment (and a few other legal things).
Last night, I went into a room to verify info with the patient. He looked confused when I asked if he had a minute, and then mumbled, "No, I don't know..."
It appeared he knew no English so I proceeded to figure out what language he did speak. It took a few minutes, but I finally figured out that he spoke Spanish. So I continued, in my broken Spanish, to try and get his info verified.
I asked for his address (in Spanish) and he pulled out his phone and pointed to a text he had received of an address. It was the only message in the conversation which I thought was weird.
Then I asked for his phone number and he just shook his head and said no.
I tried to not glare at him as I pointed at his phone and said in Spanish, "Yes, you do know. Your phone is there." He still wouldn't tell me and finally I just moved on.
Email address? He also said, "No. No, I don't know."
Annoyed, I proceeded on.
You have a job? No. Emergency contact? He told me a name, and I tried to figure out how to spell it, but he wouldn't spell it for me. So I just guessed how to spell it, showed him on the screen trying to verify, and when he shook his head yes, I was extremely proud of myself for spelling it correctly the first time! I also wondered if he'd given me a fake name just to get this over with. Then I asked for a phone number and he, again, just showed me a phone number on his phone (but when I tried to look for a name attached to it to further verify I'd spelled it correctly, I couldn't find one).
I was a little annoyed at how difficult he was being. Most people who "only" speak Spanish at least try a little harder. But we eventually finished the registration part and proceeded to the signatures. Just as I pulled up the signature screen on the computer (everything's electronic these days) the nurse walked in.
I asked the man to sign and he just stared at me and said, "No, I don't know...." The same words he'd been telling me the whole time. I told him, "Yes, you do know. Just sign. It's easy. I just need you to sign." I had even brought up the consent information in Spanish so he could read and understand exactly what he was signing. But he just shook his head at me. "No, I don't know." He just stared at his feet.
As the nurse came to help me, she explained in Spanish what was needed and he still just said, "No, no, I don't know" and hung his head lower.
Finally, it clicked. This guy didn't know how to sign his name. He didn't know how to read and he didn't know how to write. And he was embarrassed.
As the nurse and I looked at each other, she told me out loud just what I was thinking. Apparently she'd had a hunch about it from earlier. She explained to him, in Spanish what was needed, and he came close to tears. She showed him his name on a piece of paper and asked him to just copy that in the box.
And he did. I read the consent info out loud to him in Spanish (I didn't even know half of what I was saying, but he seemed to understand me as I read). Then, letter by letter, he wrote his name possibly for one of the first times in his life. It was just his first name, and it was just in print, but he wrote it, slowly but surely. He then smiled and we gave him high fives! Then he had to do it twice more, and sign his initials.
I felt terrible for being so short with him and telling him he did know. I've never encountered someone who's illiterate before, nor do I even remember what my life was like before I knew how to read and write because I was so young when I learned. But not being able to read is his normal. And I felt so bad for him.
While I like to believe I don't take things for granted and I try to remember to be grateful for things like a family, safe place to live, health, enough money, etc. I've never thought to be grateful for knowledge or the opportunity for learning. The ability to read is a gift that I've been given. And I can't express how much I appreciate that literacy is my normal.
I got a new job working in the Emergency Room at a local hospital. I. LOVE. IT. Now I understand what people mean when they talk about their "niche." It feels like home. I love the sounds of the ambulances and monitors, the varieties of people who I get to meet with and talk to, the things that I get to learn every single day, the paces, stresses, calmness, craziness, everything!
I don't love the smells.
Don't get me wrong, I still like Disney and I got to keep my job there too. It's been a beast keeping up with both and we'll see how that goes long term.
Here's my story:
I work registration, which is basically verifying information, primarily insurance, and then getting signatures of consents to treatment (and a few other legal things).
Last night, I went into a room to verify info with the patient. He looked confused when I asked if he had a minute, and then mumbled, "No, I don't know..."
It appeared he knew no English so I proceeded to figure out what language he did speak. It took a few minutes, but I finally figured out that he spoke Spanish. So I continued, in my broken Spanish, to try and get his info verified.
I asked for his address (in Spanish) and he pulled out his phone and pointed to a text he had received of an address. It was the only message in the conversation which I thought was weird.
Then I asked for his phone number and he just shook his head and said no.
I tried to not glare at him as I pointed at his phone and said in Spanish, "Yes, you do know. Your phone is there." He still wouldn't tell me and finally I just moved on.
Email address? He also said, "No. No, I don't know."
Annoyed, I proceeded on.
You have a job? No. Emergency contact? He told me a name, and I tried to figure out how to spell it, but he wouldn't spell it for me. So I just guessed how to spell it, showed him on the screen trying to verify, and when he shook his head yes, I was extremely proud of myself for spelling it correctly the first time! I also wondered if he'd given me a fake name just to get this over with. Then I asked for a phone number and he, again, just showed me a phone number on his phone (but when I tried to look for a name attached to it to further verify I'd spelled it correctly, I couldn't find one).
I was a little annoyed at how difficult he was being. Most people who "only" speak Spanish at least try a little harder. But we eventually finished the registration part and proceeded to the signatures. Just as I pulled up the signature screen on the computer (everything's electronic these days) the nurse walked in.
I asked the man to sign and he just stared at me and said, "No, I don't know...." The same words he'd been telling me the whole time. I told him, "Yes, you do know. Just sign. It's easy. I just need you to sign." I had even brought up the consent information in Spanish so he could read and understand exactly what he was signing. But he just shook his head at me. "No, I don't know." He just stared at his feet.
As the nurse came to help me, she explained in Spanish what was needed and he still just said, "No, no, I don't know" and hung his head lower.
Finally, it clicked. This guy didn't know how to sign his name. He didn't know how to read and he didn't know how to write. And he was embarrassed.
As the nurse and I looked at each other, she told me out loud just what I was thinking. Apparently she'd had a hunch about it from earlier. She explained to him, in Spanish what was needed, and he came close to tears. She showed him his name on a piece of paper and asked him to just copy that in the box.
And he did. I read the consent info out loud to him in Spanish (I didn't even know half of what I was saying, but he seemed to understand me as I read). Then, letter by letter, he wrote his name possibly for one of the first times in his life. It was just his first name, and it was just in print, but he wrote it, slowly but surely. He then smiled and we gave him high fives! Then he had to do it twice more, and sign his initials.
I felt terrible for being so short with him and telling him he did know. I've never encountered someone who's illiterate before, nor do I even remember what my life was like before I knew how to read and write because I was so young when I learned. But not being able to read is his normal. And I felt so bad for him.
While I like to believe I don't take things for granted and I try to remember to be grateful for things like a family, safe place to live, health, enough money, etc. I've never thought to be grateful for knowledge or the opportunity for learning. The ability to read is a gift that I've been given. And I can't express how much I appreciate that literacy is my normal.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)