On the lighter note of things, I have built friendships during my stay at work. I should've learned before that co-workers can never be true friends. I should have listened to my instincts ways back.
It is obvious that there are divisions among the staff in our ward. The juniors and the seniors. I was one of the juniors but I rarely act as one. I speak up my mind and that gets me in trouble most of the time since everyone around me are too narrow-minded to accept thoughts and opinions diverse to theirs. So they take it the wrong way.
Making friends at work is tricky. The secret is, not to get involved personally. It complicates things. I could have acted like a robot and turn a deaf ear and a blind eye when I see something wrong that a co-worker friend did. But it's not that easy. And that's not me.
When asking for favors, friends come in handy but when your friends who are also your co-workers, they can be irritating when repeatedly done on purpose. Geez, how many rest days do I have to trade every time the other needs to go to a party or whatsoever?!!
There were also times when you feel that they have taken advantage over you, when they endorse you a previous work that is incomplete and trashy. They feel secure to endorse it to you like that because they believe that friends understand these things. They make excuses that they are already too tired to accomplish everything and so they hand it over to you, who is just starting her shift and now had loads of responsibilities to do. Such responsibilities which are not even hers in the first place.
Too much familiarity.
Too comfortable with each other.
There should be rules about not having friends at work.
I used to trust one person at work completely. I believed she would not let me down. But then, up to the very end, she did not even stood up for me. I disappointed myself. I had no other choice but to let it go. No point in fighting for someone worthless.
I had loads of friends before until I started working and I neglected those real friends of mine. Shame on me.
Monday, May 3, 2010
Saturday, May 1, 2010
The Boss.
My boss is the epitome of a nightmare. Seriously. They say that it is unethical to talk so badly of your previous boss however, I think that such human being deserves nothing but the same treatment she gives to everybody else.
Let me name her Cruella.. =). Maam Cruella comes to work every seven o'clock in the morning and leaves the ward during lunch time then goes to the quarters of her kind at 2 o'clock in the afternoon. During my probationary days, I had the pleasure of seeing her everyday. This gave me the chance to observe her lifestyle and read her personality.
She is near her 50s, single, never had a boyfriend, not that attractive (she's not the pretty type), overweight, clueless about fashion and have no intentions on leaving the only job she has ever had for 15 years. She lives alone in her studio apartment with a small circle of friends. Her daily routine is simply work and home. In short, she had no life.
This is how our everyday experience with her is. The moment she arrives at the ward, she ignores our morning greetings and starts her daily sermon. Sometimes when she is in a good mood, she give perfunctory glance after we greet her. Somehow, she finds something to yell about everyday. That's right, she yells. Every single, dreadful day. Her presence bring such dark aura in the room that everyone wants to run for the sake of our sanity. It is as if she has this built in CCTV camera that she notices every single and little thing that we did wrong then makes a big fuss about it. But that's what bosses do right? Well, she embarrasses us most of the time. After that, she goes to her table and ignore everybody else unless she gets distracted with the crowding people around her or by someone who made a tiny, forgivable mistake. She goes to lunch and probably eats alone. I imagine her sitting at the back of a huge cafeteria sulking about why everybody else has real friends and the best that she could manage are "plastics".
After lunch, she goes to her favored ward (the other nurse's station. not ours.) and gossip about doctors and other nurses. Then, she comes back to our ward with the nasty look we are all familiar of.
She leaves quietly and talks to the senior nurse ONLY to tell her she's going home.
With regards to doing work schedule, she has the worst method. She makes a blank page for our request off's then forgets it. In the end, she just makes the schedule according to her preference. Junior nurses seldom gets weekends off. Maam Cruella enjoys seeing them suffer. Change of schedule is a tough one to ask of her. It is like going through a pinhole. I once asked her because it was my mother's birthday and actually saw flames come out from her nose and her eyes turned rouge. I was terrified. I didn't attempt to do it again until after a year.
I used to be one of her favorite staff nurses until the day when I spoke for myself and some of the staff whom she is treating unfairly. She did not even listen to what I said and blatantly tells everybody that I have a big mouth and has no respect for her. That was the day when I realized I cannot tolerate this bitch and I promised myself that one day, we will meet again and I will forgive her. For all the hurt she brought us.
The worst thing that I could share about her was during my pregnancy, when my OB advised me to take a sick leave because there are signs that I might miscarry, she created a scandal that I was in fact using the sick leave just so I could enjoy the holidays. She even doubted my pregnancy was even at risk. After two weeks of bed rest, I came back to work and was treated coldly by her. She transferred me to the ward where I am going to handle chemotherapeutic drugs. These are very dangerous drugs that could harm my baby, considering I am in the first trimester. But she ignored all these. She didn't care.
I lost the baby after a week. Maybe it was her. Maybe it was the drugs I was handling. But mostly, it was me being stressed out merely by my co-existence with her.
Let me name her Cruella.. =). Maam Cruella comes to work every seven o'clock in the morning and leaves the ward during lunch time then goes to the quarters of her kind at 2 o'clock in the afternoon. During my probationary days, I had the pleasure of seeing her everyday. This gave me the chance to observe her lifestyle and read her personality.
She is near her 50s, single, never had a boyfriend, not that attractive (she's not the pretty type), overweight, clueless about fashion and have no intentions on leaving the only job she has ever had for 15 years. She lives alone in her studio apartment with a small circle of friends. Her daily routine is simply work and home. In short, she had no life.
This is how our everyday experience with her is. The moment she arrives at the ward, she ignores our morning greetings and starts her daily sermon. Sometimes when she is in a good mood, she give perfunctory glance after we greet her. Somehow, she finds something to yell about everyday. That's right, she yells. Every single, dreadful day. Her presence bring such dark aura in the room that everyone wants to run for the sake of our sanity. It is as if she has this built in CCTV camera that she notices every single and little thing that we did wrong then makes a big fuss about it. But that's what bosses do right? Well, she embarrasses us most of the time. After that, she goes to her table and ignore everybody else unless she gets distracted with the crowding people around her or by someone who made a tiny, forgivable mistake. She goes to lunch and probably eats alone. I imagine her sitting at the back of a huge cafeteria sulking about why everybody else has real friends and the best that she could manage are "plastics".
After lunch, she goes to her favored ward (the other nurse's station. not ours.) and gossip about doctors and other nurses. Then, she comes back to our ward with the nasty look we are all familiar of.
She leaves quietly and talks to the senior nurse ONLY to tell her she's going home.
With regards to doing work schedule, she has the worst method. She makes a blank page for our request off's then forgets it. In the end, she just makes the schedule according to her preference. Junior nurses seldom gets weekends off. Maam Cruella enjoys seeing them suffer. Change of schedule is a tough one to ask of her. It is like going through a pinhole. I once asked her because it was my mother's birthday and actually saw flames come out from her nose and her eyes turned rouge. I was terrified. I didn't attempt to do it again until after a year.
I used to be one of her favorite staff nurses until the day when I spoke for myself and some of the staff whom she is treating unfairly. She did not even listen to what I said and blatantly tells everybody that I have a big mouth and has no respect for her. That was the day when I realized I cannot tolerate this bitch and I promised myself that one day, we will meet again and I will forgive her. For all the hurt she brought us.
The worst thing that I could share about her was during my pregnancy, when my OB advised me to take a sick leave because there are signs that I might miscarry, she created a scandal that I was in fact using the sick leave just so I could enjoy the holidays. She even doubted my pregnancy was even at risk. After two weeks of bed rest, I came back to work and was treated coldly by her. She transferred me to the ward where I am going to handle chemotherapeutic drugs. These are very dangerous drugs that could harm my baby, considering I am in the first trimester. But she ignored all these. She didn't care.
I lost the baby after a week. Maybe it was her. Maybe it was the drugs I was handling. But mostly, it was me being stressed out merely by my co-existence with her.
My ward.
So let me describe the place where I work.
It’s in Manila near the university belt. The hospital is most famous for having the highest paid nurses in the country. Any licensed nurse would kill for this position. Yet, I still left.
The hospital is a tertiary one. That would mean that the bed capacity reaches over 200 and certain medical services are being offered there. It is divided into pay and charity division. Unfortunately, I was assigned in the charity division. Picture a government hospital in a third world country. That’s it. That’s my workplace just chocolate-coated with power to boast the title of “highest paid nurses in the country”. The ward where I was assigned was undeniably the most toxic one in the charity division. Patients there have less funds for treatments and even those who are in critical states with no funds for ICU get admitted to our ward. It was pure heaven.
The Philippines is a tropical country. During summer, the temperature could reach up to 39 degrees Celsius. Our ward did not have any air-conditioning. I remember feeling dehydrated every hour that I had to gulp loads of water every chance I get. My deodorant had no use for this condition. I was all covered with sweat the moment I enter our station. I can smell the sweat of not only the patients, but also the doctors and nurses. It was reeking of body sweat! It was disgusting. Considering that we are promoting health and wellness, we walk the halls and interact with our patients with sweat dripping all over my face and my white uniform drenched. I’ve never felt so close to my masculine side until today.
When I ask them why the nurses’ station in the pay division can have comfortable workplace with the air-conditioning and decent hallways and station, they just shrug it off and pretend not to hear anything. Apparently, they have been demanding for the same comfort for as long as they could remember but received the same treatment they did to me a while ago. Always a deaf ear. I wonder, if ever I survive here and be tenured, would I turn out to be another employee who has no voice and is used to a management that turns a deaf ear all the time? Now I am more scared. I was told since I learned the ABCs that I have a right to voice out anything if I know I am doing the right thing or if it is beneficial to the majority. This could not be taken away from me. Not ever!
THE NURSE STATION
Our station was one of the most spacious one in the charity division which does not work to our advantage. This makes our ward appear to be the most accommodating place where clerks, residents, student nurses can hang out. There were many cases of lost valuables due to this. The heat is not helpful to the mood of the people around me when it becomes so crowded. Particularly, our supervisor who becomes enraged every time she sees a single soul who is not a nurse hanging out in our “nurses’ station”. Obviously, she is a territorial sociophobic.
Apart from missing valuables, patients’ charts become accessible to anyone and they could get lost or travel to other parts of the hospital without our knowledge. For everybody’s information, nurses are responsible for the safekeeping of patients’ charts. But in our working condition, guarding the charts is a colossal challenge. Missing charts would mean extended unpaid hours and vulnerability to be reprimanded by other doctors looking for the same chart. It was a lose-lose situation for everybody.
THE MEDICATION AREA
This area is divided into two sides. Since patients are often distributed only to two bedside nurses. It is not the coziest area to be at. The electric fan is near it, so any loose medication cards or kardex (where the patient’s medications are all listed) would go flying out of your hands. That would add additional effort of looking around for it in a crowded place. Most of the time, student nurses are present there hovering over us and grabbing their assigned patient’s medications every chance they get. It was like being in a race. I always time myself when I start preparing my meds. I should be done in 30-45 minutes or else, the annoying students get in the way and any chances of memorizing your due meds and appropriately arranging them is gone. This is one of the infuriating times for the shift. At the end of the shift, instead of starting my endorsement to the incoming nurse, I would have to recheck if all my medications are complete which would be rare. I would have to make a new medication card and check with the chart (which is often missing) or the kardex (which is being used by the charge nurse) if it was indeed accurate. This is crucial since we have developed a system to avoid medication errors. Check in the chart (the standing medications, physician’s order and medication sheet), the kardex, and the medication card. If one of these are inaccurate, necessary investigation as to what caused this and appropriate action need to be done.
THE FRONT DESK
This is a tough place to be with. You would have to be experienced enough to sit here. This is where you put a smile in your face and accommodate every question a patient’s relative or sometimes just about any person throws at you. You also answer to doctor’s questions who are doing rounds and that would mean being aware of every patient admitted (not just your own). In conclusion, only the charge nurse can sit here. Here you can find the stack of laboratory requests, ECG requests, discharge forms, telephone directory, drug handbook and other godzillion things that would come in handy anytime, including a prayer book that you would need if a priest comes and asks you to pray with them.
THE BACK TABLE
This is where our supervisor usually sits. She does most of her paper works here so you can take a peek at the next work schedule without her knowledge. This is where she conducts “personal talks” with her staff. No there aren’t any division that could provide privacy. She can scold at you right at this table and would not care whether a patient, a doctor, clinical instructor or even the janitor is there. Told you she was a treat! Her professionalism is the best. She will evaluate a probationary there as well. Enumerate your incident reports, personal problems with co-staff and technical mistakes for all the world to hear. I can’t wait for mine! It would be phenomenal.
The back table also provides us a place to eat. We don’t have any lunch breaks so we eat when there’s the time. We also rarely get to eat uninterrupted. Usually, the relatives come often when they saw us eating. They somehow find it comforting that they catch us at our moment of pleasure and can take it away from us by asking if we could change their patient’s diaper.
THE CHART RACK
This is the most worthless and useless rack I have ever seen in my life. I have never seen it complete and organized. The charts are never in their proper place. Most doctors, clerks and student nurses place a certain chart in the wrong rack. The labels for each rack are nonexistent. I tried rewriting it once with sticker paper, but just after a day, they were mostly lost. It was totally hopeless.
THE COMFORT ROOM
It was a cramped up room with no mirror and no sink. The floor are most of the time wet and dirty. The guys using them are messy and would not even be polite enough to put the lid up when peeing. UGH! The smell is unbearable. Plus there’s a huge window in front of the toilet that you can open for all the world to see. The flush rarely works and if ever it does, it overflows. We often put an “OUT OF ORDER” sign by the door and lock it but somehow the messy ones find a way in.
That basically covers it. The best place in the world.
It’s in Manila near the university belt. The hospital is most famous for having the highest paid nurses in the country. Any licensed nurse would kill for this position. Yet, I still left.
The hospital is a tertiary one. That would mean that the bed capacity reaches over 200 and certain medical services are being offered there. It is divided into pay and charity division. Unfortunately, I was assigned in the charity division. Picture a government hospital in a third world country. That’s it. That’s my workplace just chocolate-coated with power to boast the title of “highest paid nurses in the country”. The ward where I was assigned was undeniably the most toxic one in the charity division. Patients there have less funds for treatments and even those who are in critical states with no funds for ICU get admitted to our ward. It was pure heaven.
The Philippines is a tropical country. During summer, the temperature could reach up to 39 degrees Celsius. Our ward did not have any air-conditioning. I remember feeling dehydrated every hour that I had to gulp loads of water every chance I get. My deodorant had no use for this condition. I was all covered with sweat the moment I enter our station. I can smell the sweat of not only the patients, but also the doctors and nurses. It was reeking of body sweat! It was disgusting. Considering that we are promoting health and wellness, we walk the halls and interact with our patients with sweat dripping all over my face and my white uniform drenched. I’ve never felt so close to my masculine side until today.
When I ask them why the nurses’ station in the pay division can have comfortable workplace with the air-conditioning and decent hallways and station, they just shrug it off and pretend not to hear anything. Apparently, they have been demanding for the same comfort for as long as they could remember but received the same treatment they did to me a while ago. Always a deaf ear. I wonder, if ever I survive here and be tenured, would I turn out to be another employee who has no voice and is used to a management that turns a deaf ear all the time? Now I am more scared. I was told since I learned the ABCs that I have a right to voice out anything if I know I am doing the right thing or if it is beneficial to the majority. This could not be taken away from me. Not ever!
THE NURSE STATION
Our station was one of the most spacious one in the charity division which does not work to our advantage. This makes our ward appear to be the most accommodating place where clerks, residents, student nurses can hang out. There were many cases of lost valuables due to this. The heat is not helpful to the mood of the people around me when it becomes so crowded. Particularly, our supervisor who becomes enraged every time she sees a single soul who is not a nurse hanging out in our “nurses’ station”. Obviously, she is a territorial sociophobic.
Apart from missing valuables, patients’ charts become accessible to anyone and they could get lost or travel to other parts of the hospital without our knowledge. For everybody’s information, nurses are responsible for the safekeeping of patients’ charts. But in our working condition, guarding the charts is a colossal challenge. Missing charts would mean extended unpaid hours and vulnerability to be reprimanded by other doctors looking for the same chart. It was a lose-lose situation for everybody.
THE MEDICATION AREA
This area is divided into two sides. Since patients are often distributed only to two bedside nurses. It is not the coziest area to be at. The electric fan is near it, so any loose medication cards or kardex (where the patient’s medications are all listed) would go flying out of your hands. That would add additional effort of looking around for it in a crowded place. Most of the time, student nurses are present there hovering over us and grabbing their assigned patient’s medications every chance they get. It was like being in a race. I always time myself when I start preparing my meds. I should be done in 30-45 minutes or else, the annoying students get in the way and any chances of memorizing your due meds and appropriately arranging them is gone. This is one of the infuriating times for the shift. At the end of the shift, instead of starting my endorsement to the incoming nurse, I would have to recheck if all my medications are complete which would be rare. I would have to make a new medication card and check with the chart (which is often missing) or the kardex (which is being used by the charge nurse) if it was indeed accurate. This is crucial since we have developed a system to avoid medication errors. Check in the chart (the standing medications, physician’s order and medication sheet), the kardex, and the medication card. If one of these are inaccurate, necessary investigation as to what caused this and appropriate action need to be done.
THE FRONT DESK
This is a tough place to be with. You would have to be experienced enough to sit here. This is where you put a smile in your face and accommodate every question a patient’s relative or sometimes just about any person throws at you. You also answer to doctor’s questions who are doing rounds and that would mean being aware of every patient admitted (not just your own). In conclusion, only the charge nurse can sit here. Here you can find the stack of laboratory requests, ECG requests, discharge forms, telephone directory, drug handbook and other godzillion things that would come in handy anytime, including a prayer book that you would need if a priest comes and asks you to pray with them.
THE BACK TABLE
This is where our supervisor usually sits. She does most of her paper works here so you can take a peek at the next work schedule without her knowledge. This is where she conducts “personal talks” with her staff. No there aren’t any division that could provide privacy. She can scold at you right at this table and would not care whether a patient, a doctor, clinical instructor or even the janitor is there. Told you she was a treat! Her professionalism is the best. She will evaluate a probationary there as well. Enumerate your incident reports, personal problems with co-staff and technical mistakes for all the world to hear. I can’t wait for mine! It would be phenomenal.
The back table also provides us a place to eat. We don’t have any lunch breaks so we eat when there’s the time. We also rarely get to eat uninterrupted. Usually, the relatives come often when they saw us eating. They somehow find it comforting that they catch us at our moment of pleasure and can take it away from us by asking if we could change their patient’s diaper.
THE CHART RACK
This is the most worthless and useless rack I have ever seen in my life. I have never seen it complete and organized. The charts are never in their proper place. Most doctors, clerks and student nurses place a certain chart in the wrong rack. The labels for each rack are nonexistent. I tried rewriting it once with sticker paper, but just after a day, they were mostly lost. It was totally hopeless.
THE COMFORT ROOM
It was a cramped up room with no mirror and no sink. The floor are most of the time wet and dirty. The guys using them are messy and would not even be polite enough to put the lid up when peeing. UGH! The smell is unbearable. Plus there’s a huge window in front of the toilet that you can open for all the world to see. The flush rarely works and if ever it does, it overflows. We often put an “OUT OF ORDER” sign by the door and lock it but somehow the messy ones find a way in.
That basically covers it. The best place in the world.
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