So, I've had a rough week. Let me start off by saying that I hate the daylight hours working at Switchboard. Everyone calls in during the day, and they all expect you to answer the phone immediately. As if there aren't a total of ten lines on the console, any number of which could have calls.
I can't believe how many people call in and say "Transfer me to the Emergency Room". Well, if they would have listened to the recording, which takes about ten seconds, all they would have to do is press 5. Then, they wouldn't have to wait in the queue, and they wouldn't take up my time for a simple request.
And, some days, the doctors are worse than the public. They expect me to put them through to an office or department and stay on the line until someone answers. Well, I'm sorry, I don't have the time to do that. If they would pull out the phone book that's in every office, they could just push the four numbers on the phone for that extension. Grrr.
I had a doctor that was on call for patient calls for a practice, but I couldn't get ahold of him after paging him for five hours. I had to call the administrator on-call and talk to him. But, he couldn't get him either, so another doctor agreed to cover for him. Then, the doctor called in and said that he had "no idea" that he was on-call.
Thursday, I worked the mailroom for the first time by myself. I had gotten trained in there two weeks ago, and I had come in for someone who wanted a day off. First thing in the morning, the machine that puts the postage on the envelopes at a stack of envelopes. And when I lifted the cover to check the innards, I dumped a stack of postcards down the back, against the wall, on the floor, behind the counter. So, I had to pull the massive counter away from the wall (luckily it had wheels) and get in there to pick them up. On the way back out, the corner of the counter caught on my fly and pulled the zipper apart. Somehow I managed to get it back together. The letters in the machine looked like mini-accordians.
Then, I weighed some packages, and sent them through, but for some reason, the machine reset the postage, so they all ended up quite a bit short. I called my supervisor over, and she wasn't quite sure what was going on with the machine either. But, it did make me feel better that she wasn't sure either.
Friday, when the offices closed, and the on-call doctor started, I patched a call through to him, and he told me to hold his calls because he was still seeing patients. So, I had to get information from the call I had. And the doctor was on-call for both inside and outside calls, meaning if there was a need inside the hospital or if a patient called in, he handled it. Anyway, when he called back in an hour-and-a-half later, I had five calls waiting for him, one of which had been fairly critical, and I had to put the inside call through to a manager on-call because the doctor was unavailable.
I swear, some of these people act like little kids. And, for the amount of money he's making being on-call, he should be available at any time.
Oh, also on Thursday, I found out from my Census group leaders that I have to make significant progress on my assigned districts, or my binder will be reassigned, meaning that I'll be fired. Which means that I've basically had yesterday and today to get things done on it, since I worked 3-11 Friday. The week after I started for the Census, I started working four and five days a week at the hospital, which means I was pulling 50-70 hours a week. The last couple of weeks, I haven't been doing near as much for the Census because of sheer exhaustion. Although, taking so long isn't entirely my fault. Some of the addresses I was given in my first binder either didn't exist, or the maps placed them in the wrong location, or the houses didn't have numbers on them, et cetera. And, this coming week, the week after I need to make a lot of progress, I only work at the hospital two days.
I put in eight hours yesterday, and I had one of the best nights I've had for a while. After dropping of my time sheet, I drove the beer distributor, and picked up two 30-packs of cheap beer. $30 for 60 cans! Then I went to Walmart for some groceries, and I ran into some friends, got talking to them at the check-out, and forgot to get ice. So, I stopped at a gas station on the way home, and ran into some more friends. Finally, I left there and got home around ten or so.
I hadn't eaten that much yesterday, so it only took about five cans in two hours to get me feeling pretty good. It's amazing how a strong buzz can make life so much better. It's just a feeling that everything is all good. I spent a while on the couch watching television with my parents, drinking beer and eating cheese popcorn. My cat was enjoying the popcorn as well...
So, yeah, that's pretty much it...