everythingyoualwayswantedtosaybutwereafraid

Things you always wanted to say but were afraid

Archive for the tag “Abominations in the Work Place”

If I don’t like it, I can walk away!

The story begins with a check we received in the mail.  A $15 check from a hospital that The Man was in over a year ago.  Just a check; nothing else.  It wasn’t worth trying to find out the source or the reason, so I stuck it in my purse to cash it for a little pocket change.  Of course, I forgot about it and got a bit panicky when I thought about it and realized it had been a couple of months since I received it.  Fearing there was some sort of expiration date, I whipped into the bank’s drive thru when, in the little town 13 miles from home, I was picking up The Man’s prescriptions.  I don’t use the bank much; I said I was going to close the account when my favorite officer retired, but as usual I had procrastinated.   Hurrying to the drive-in window, I stopped, turned he check over and signed my name to the back.  The  bank teller asked me for the last four of my Social saying, “Ms. McCoy I don’t think I’ve ever seen you here before.”  (I have only banked there since 1980.) After what I believed to be somewhat of a wait to cash a $15 check, she returned to the window to tell me that they were unable to cash the check because it was made out to The Man, yet I had signed it.  I protested, “We both sign on the account.”  “Sorry, Ms. McCoy, it’s policy.”  Of course, it was too late to just pull out of sight and sign The Man’s name, and I should have just looked at the front before I arrived.  I always sign his name anyway; he never wants to.  (So arrest me;  I don’t think he will testify.) I took the check back out of the little moving box and tore it into approximately 100 pieces and put it back in the little moving box and thanked them for the experience, telling them I completely understood policy and respected their need to follow it.

I pulled around to the front, went in and saw them all huddled together presumably talking about the crazy lady that just came through the drive thru.  Picture this scene:  the entire staff of women were in those Friday football jerseys for the local team – some pink, some gray, some green.  The only person in an office was browsing through a yearbook.  Saying, “You can stop talking about me now; I’m here”, I proceeded to the only teller that appeared to have that color thing worked out (She was in a gray spirit shirt.) and told her I wanted to close the account.  I explained that I had really intended to close the account anyway when my favorite bank officer had retired, so now was as good a time as any.  I could tell they had been well-trained in customer service when she told me that they could reassemble the check (I should have let them do that and then closed the account, but the old brain just doesn’t always think too swift.), deposit it in my account, then I could write a $15 check and get the money that way.  Clever, but too late at that point.  The teller than proceeded to tell me that I should really take that money in the form of a cashier’s check instead of cash. (She should never leave an opening like that.)  I explained that I had already had trouble cashing one check at their bank, so I really didn’t want to take any chances on another check.  Just cash please.

I hope I just made their day more interesting with something more to talk about instead of looking at yearbooks and worrying about the spirit shirt color for Friday night lights. Aww, you’re right; spirit shirt colors are more important.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=siW8MkUSo1s

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Interaction with the office manager of a top of the line neurosurgeon

 

 

The appointment was requested by me to the Mans doctor on August 16, 2012 during an office visit.

I had researched the doctors within a certain area that would best fit our needs for pain control and possible surgery.

The Mans doctor’s office took until August 28, 2012 to fax the referral.  For easy arithmetic lesson, that is 12 days later.

BUT, I did not know that until I had called the Man’s doctor’s office on August 21, 2012, August 29, 2012, September 4, 2012, and September 7, 2012.

On September 10, 2012 the Mans doctor’s office called to tell me when it had been faxed.  For easy arithmetic again, that is 4 phone calls to get the date of the referral.

With this information, I decided I should call the specialist.  The guru, board certified neurosurgeon with a specialty in pain management and hospital privileges at Providence Hospital.  I called them; the lady that answered the phone said, “Oh yeah,  you have a 3:00 pm appointment on September the 18, 2012.

The next day I got a package in the mail from Dr. Guru with 10 pages to fill out and bring with us.

The website request these things which I carefully collected.

You will need the following items…

 

  • All x-ray, MRI, CT or other films & reports you may have relating to your visit.
  • Any recent lab work.
  • All of the medications (names and dosages) you are taking at this time.
  • Your insurance card and co-pay.
  • Your drivers license or other form of identification.
  • Your referral from your primary care physician (if required by your insurance company).

Our office can help to facilitate provision of these films, reports, labwork and referring physician documentation.

 

I got the MRI on CD for Dr. Guru from the Hamilton Hospital, but they would not let me pick it up, so the Man had to go there and get out in a wheel chair to go sign for the CD.  He did.

We changed Dr.s and saw the new GP on September 17, 2012.  She told us to go ahead and go and see what he said.

When we got home from that Dr.’s appointment, the message on the machine reminded us of the time and date of our appointment with Dr. Guru and what to bring and that they only took cash and checks and be sure to have our co-pay with us in that form.

We got ready; maybe you can just imagine what that is like.

We drove the 60 miles to Waco with the Man in pain from the long ride.  We got lost and called the office of Dr. Guru.  Mandy gave us directions and was very personable on the phone.

We found the office.

I parked in the handicap place where the Man could get out most easily.

I went in to get a wheelchair.  I never take the walker, because every doctors’ office and hospital I have ever been has a wheelchair available.

I asked if they had a wheelchair.

She said just a minute and returned to tell me they did not.

I asked for assistance to get him in the office.  I was about 25 feet to the door from the handicap parking.

She said just a minute and asked the nurse who came out and asked the receptionist to ask me if he was coming from a nursing home.

I heard the question and answered no.

The office manager came to the window and said she was Mandy.  I said yes I talked to you on the phone; you gave me directions.

She asked me to step in the back for a minute.

I followed her to the back of the offices to a room with a desk and two chairs and a computer.  That is all.

She asked me to sit down and then sat down across from me.

I was confused.

She said Dr. Guru would be unable to see the Man on this day.  I asked why.  She said their insurance liability prevented them from assisting him into the office.  She said they did not have another appointment for three weeks, but she would work me in the next day.

I asked her what good would that do, and she said I could bring my own help or walker.

She was very apologetic and continued to reiterate that she was, “just the office manager.”

I stated that it was unbelievable to me that a neurosurgeon would not have a way to assist people into his office.  He surely had patients that were immobilized from back surgeries and other major problems.  This is their statement from their website.

 

Dr. Guru’s company is dedicated to providing world-class, contemporary neurosurgical services with the utmost of care and compassion. Our experienced healthcare professionals are dedicated to treating each patient as an individual, deserving of our time, attention, and respect.

 

These are some of the procedures they perform, yet they cannot assist anyone in the door?

  • Minimally Invasive Surgery
  • Microscopic Spine Surgery
  • Cervical Disc Replacement
  • Lumbar Disc Replacement
  • Lumbar Fusion
  • Cervical Fusion
  • Lumbar Discectomy
  • Cervical Discectomy
  • Kyphoplasty
  • Thoracic Spine Surgery
  • Spinal Cord Tumor Surgery
  • Anterior/Posterior Spine Surgery

Brain Procedures

  • Chiari Malformation
  • Subdural/Epidural Hematoma
  • Trigeminal Neuralgia
  • Atypical Pain Procedures

Other Procedures

  • Spinal Cord Stimulator Implantation
  • Peripheral Nerve Stimulator Implantation
  • Carpal Tunnel Release
  • Vagal Nerve Stimulator
  • Ulnar Nerve Decompression
  • Muscle Biopsy
  • Miscrosurgery

I explained to her the pain and suffering that was involved in a 120 mile trip on that day only to turn around and do it again the next day.

I asked her if I could get him in the office would they see him.  She said yes.

I asked as I was going out to get him,  wasn’t she more concerned about the Man and I getting hurt after they had refused to help us?

She immediately told me that Dr. Guru would be unable to establish a patient relationship with the Man, and to have a nice day. What happened to that dedicated, respectful, professional, experienced healthcare person.

She never looked out at the Man.  She never came to him and explained.  No attention or respect there.

I left. When I got to the car he was trying to get up.  I told him they would not see him.

He was confused.  I told him what was said.

The Man cried. I cried.

He screamed in pain after another 60 mile trip home as he got out of the car.

I have never in my life had an experience with a doctor like that.  Well, actually the experience was with “Mandy (no last name), the office manager.”

Life is full of experiences.  Some more memorable than others.

Why do people keep hurting the Man?

Why is America so allergic to elderly?

I know what goes around comes around.  I trust in Karma.

Now, I am glad he did not see him, because I think something unusual is going on that an office manager would be able to make those kinds of calls for a Dr. Guru without consulting him.  I think maybe they had reviewed the Man’s file and didn’t want him because he was too much for them.  I don’t know.  I know they may have success because of their selection process.  No, I mean because of their discrimination process.

The Man is pissed because they hurt me.

I am pissed because they hurt him.

Help~

 

 

Solidarity for teachers in Chicago

I do not like teacher bashing.  I readily admit that there are bad teachers, but they are few and far between.  What often comes across as a bad teacher is more likely a result of poor facilities, overcrowding, and kids with issues that need additional support systems to succeed.

These are the issues that Chicago teachers are fighting for.  A Science class with over 40 students, over 90% with economic issues and no air conditioning is not likely to help students do their best on standardized testing.  Yeah, yeah, yeah I’ve heard it all before about the no air conditioning thing.  Well, we didn’t have air conditioning when we were going to school.  Neither did I, but I came out of a house without air conditioning into a school without air conditioning.

It is about time that this society made up their minds to support public schools with the social programs needed for today’s kids.  I have seen so many extremely troubled children that need much more specific help than a classroom teacher is prepared (or has time) to offer.  One student told me that his dad died from “sniffing too much sugar.”  He was living with an uncle because his mom and step dad did not have room for him in their apartment.  He was angry, smart enough to get away with lots of things, yet starved for attention.  Starving for attention made him disruptive in class.  His social skills were non-existent, so he made enemies instead of friends.  These kinds of issues require support systems, that yes, cost money.

Now, come on.  Do you really think teachers make 75,000 a year?  That is an average and a few teachers skew that average.  A teacher with 10 years tenure does not make that much, and my daughter-in-law makes that in the computer industry after 10 years and she doesn’t have to put up with 40+ kids in a room with her to earn her living.

By the way, who has been at the bargaining table with teachers.  If I was worried about a strike I sure wouldn’t have waited until the last week to show up to talk about it, but the Mayor did.  He sent lawyers to talk to teachers.  Does that appear to be trying to work something out.  It appears to be more of an insult to me.

Damn, I’m tired of preaching that same ole thing.

And if nothing else the endorsement of Paul Ryan, alias Eddie Haskel and Munster, would put me on the teachers side any day.

Be careful Chicago firefighters, and policemen – you are next.  Rahm Emanual – what kind of Democrat are you?

Title IX and the athletes left behind

 

 

 

Not feeling very motivated to write lately, this one has caught me by the heart.  I am 58 years old.  In 1972 President Richard Nixon signed the Title IX legislation that made it illegal to discriminate against women in sports.  I graduated in 1971.

I was a tomboy from birth I guess.  I had little toy guns on my diaper pins.  My daddy was a baseball playing fool, and I benefited from that with many evenings of catch in the backyard.  Fortunately for me, my dad did not believe in cutting any slack to anyone (not even a girl) and I learned to catch a hot pepper just as well as any boy.  It was that or get hit with the ball and catching it was much less painful.  At the age of 12 we moved to a small town that had girls’ basketball, and even though it was three on three, I loved it.  By the time I was a freshman, the game had changed to the boys’ version of five on five, and I existed for sports.  The by-product of that was my coach made sure we kept our grades up, and I excelled on both the field and in the classroom.

By the end of 1968 our school board in Everman, Texas had decided that they could no longer afford to fund five  basketball teams.  At that time there was a varsity girls and boys team and a junior varsity girls and boys team and a boys freshman team.  That board, made up of entirely men, decided it could only fund three teams.  I imagine you can see where I’m going.  So behind the cloak of secrecy, it put in a girls’ coach with instructions to let the program go as far downhill as possible.  She held not one practice the final year we played.  Imagine – a team that did not practice one time.  We even went so far as to go to the gym on our own until we were barred for lack of supervision at which time our parents began coming with us.  We were then banned completely without a coach and our coach would not come – I imagine for fear of her job.  We got a petition up with many, many community signatures that was presented to the Board.  They thanked us.  That was all they did.  We lost miserably.  I had already had college coaches talk to me about playing for them, but with our program completely deleted when I was a sophomore that went down the drain as did my will to continue.

I lost the thing I loved and that motivate me the most.  I quit caring about school;  I experimented with things better left alone and who’s to say that wouldn’t have happened anyway, but I don’t believe it would have.  You SOB  bigoted all male school board took the very thing I was the best at and loved the most at that time because you were making decisions for women without any regard for women’s’ feelings.  I will always resent that and will never forget it.

Kind of reminds you of today doesn’t it? Leave my vagina alone and guys — give up trying to make decisions for women.  We are quite capable.  I hope the young women and their parents of today are stronger than we were.

How many stories are there like this?

http://www.wnba.com/titleix/powerofnine_060812.html

 

My son, the genius

Now, I know that is what everyone thinks when their child is small, but hey this kid is pushing 40, and he still gets a vote from me.  I am referring to a column he wrote in the last newspaper I got from him.  For those that don’t know, he owns a small weekly newspaper in Wisconsin Rapids (which would obviously be in Wisconsin – you think?).  I get my paper in the mail so I am sure I am behind a week, maybe more but I finally dug around and found it.  It is in the May 11, 2012 issue and is titled, “Future rests within ourselves, not fantasies of new large employer.”  Without repeating the entire column let me paraphrase his thesis.  Jeff says that too many people in the area are waiting for some “big” employer to sweep into the area and open some “turn of the century” factory to offer employment to most of the residents.  However, those same people want all the struggle and fight that came out of those factories to give the workers adequate pay and benefits should come with it.  Jeff goes on to say that those days are gone and all the wishing in the world are not going to bring them back.  It is now up to each small community to fight back and the most important part of that is for people to SUPPORT THEIR LOCAL BUSINESSES.  Those other towns that are 15 or 20 miles away are just thrilled with the money you go and give to them, but there is not any of them that care about your local animal shelter, or Kiwanas Club, or any other local non-profit trying desperately to stay alive for your benefit.

And yes, I live in the same type of small town in Texas (although it is much, much, much more conservative) and does not have as many local business so I understand that it can cost more.  A little inconvenience to you can mean the difference in your child’s school having 20 students in a classroom or 40 students in a classroom.  And if you think any large corporation is going to come in and save you or anyone else other than their CEOs you are just living in a dream world.

The most impressive thing about the column (in addition to the foresight) is that at the end he challenges anyone that has bought something outside the area to call him and he will find it in Wisconsin Rapids or he will give them a reward. (It’s some kind of discount to some local place and remember I’m in Texas so I’m not sure what it is.)

Of course the “stump the editor” prize if you do stump him is not large, but hey it’s a SMALL TOWN WEEKLY NEWSPAPER THAT HE STARTED WITH HIS FAMILY.

Future rests within ourselves, not large employer fantasies

So, “wake up ‘merica.” Let’s poor people help each other instead of helping rich people get richer.

Cheating – – but not by kids?

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This is one of the hardest stories to tell, but it has been on my mind since 1984.  These are secrets that are normally carried to the grave, and but for one little student teacher that has had her conscience troubling her ever since so would this one.

I was doing my student teaching.  It was the end of the year in May and cheerleading tryouts were underway for the year.  One of the most intense ones was the competition of the 6th graders to make the Jr. Hi team.  Only two 6th graders would make that team and there was around 20 girls trying out for those two positions.  It appeared to be above-board.  A jury of college cheerleaders made the decision after a tryout that included several different ways to show their stuff.  In the end the two girls that won were the two that were expected to win.  They were definitely the most popular girls in the 6th grade.

Within a week tragedy stuck.  One of the girl’s father was transferred unexpectedly out-of-town, so she would be unable to serve. Thinking that the easiest way to remedy the situation, and without having to go through the entire process again, it appeared that to take the next person down would be the simplest explanation.  The files were pulled out in the teachers’ lounge to check on the third place person.  Low and behold it was a student that some of the teachers found a little less than desirable.  You know, family problems, druggie older brother, poor white wrong side of the track sort of thing.  No matter that she was  a beautiful, striking, athletic, intelligent girl who may have needed this more than any other of the girls.  Then, much to their surprise, the fourth place girls was a teacher’s kid – really good kid, straight As, conservative dresser, good family, etc. They justified their decision by the fact that it was the “right” thing to do.

I sat in the corner ignoring the entire process.  I was just taking a class and happen to be there, and I really had no say.  I’m having it now.  After very little discussion, the decision was made to skip the third place, go to the fourth place, shred all the paperwork and who would ever know the difference.  They know, and I know.

It still makes me sick, but doesn’t it remind you of our government? And al those good people wonder what is wrong with our society.  They never believe they have anything to do with its corruption.

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The need for cameras

I know all the arguments about privacy and stuff, but after 22 years in education in every position from coach, teacher, assistant principal,  and principal, I believe there should be video cameras in every classroom, locker room and any other place that children interact with adults in school.

We don’t have any problem having cameras in the hallways and cafeterias in case students “act up”, but we have yet to go to the next step of putting them in the classroom.  Just think of the advantages; you could share all good teaching techniques and exceptional lessons with others; you would have video for parent conferences to show how students behave at school; adults and students that know they are being video taped will monitor their actions a bit more; and finally, it would provide any “evidence” that might be necessary when we get into the he said/she said arguments.

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If you still are skeptical, watch this video, but be prepared to be disgusted.

Click on this to hear UTUBE video

Politics of money

The older I get, the more I understand what my father was trying to tell me about money.  My father has been dead for many years, but through my teenage years we had a standing argument about money.  His premise was “money would buy happiness.”  My premise was, “no matter how much money you have, you are not necessarily happy.”  We would argue the point on a regular, usually about once a week, basis.

At that time it was just an argument between an idealistic teenager that had grown up with the things she needed, but not always everything she wanted and a grown man who had known poverty and was hanging on to his little bit of prosperity with all the strength he had.  I didn’t understand it until now.

As I read about the people who care little about others and make millions off the backs of the working poor, I understand why my father tried so hard to make money more important to me.  He knew that at any moment something bigger, some kind of monster, could take it all away.  I had been shielded from that.

When I read about Bain Capital and the way they do business, I understand that I could easily be one of the thousands of laid off workers suddenly without jobs, or those that on the first day of Bain Capital’s management were fired and offered an application to apply for their jobs at half the wage and no pension, or the widows and orphans that one day had their pensions cut to nothing.

Oh he made money, and it helped a lot of us since our pension plans and college endowments had invested in the company just for that reason.  Of course, the individual didn’t know that, but we liked making money too.

My father did understand the money issue much better than I did, but I’m learning.  I just don’t want to be like Mitt.  I don’t want the only people with a seat at the table to be millionaires and how could they since I’m not.  I just want to be left alone and treated fairly.  Apparently, that is too much to ask.

Please, if you want some interesting information about how the money-making machine works read the article in the Dallas Observer.  Excellent research and fascinating study in psychology.

Mitt Romney: American Parasite

Mitt Romney’s years at Bain Capital represent everything you hate about capitalism.

By Pete Kotz Thursday, Apr 19 2012

Just click on picture to see full article.

I can say it and I did

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Future admin building? Fits what's inside?

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If this was your child, would you want her going out in all kinds of weather to get to her car after school?

Well, I learned a few days ago about the renovations at the admin building of my previous employer, and I nearly flipped out.  The reason being, our campus houses the severe and profoundly disabled children for the entire district.  For two years we have been trying to get awnings built over the sidewalks that these children go out every evening to be picked up.  Those with cerebral palsy, in wheelchairs, and other physical issues are forced to go out and down a sidewalk with no protection from thunderstorms, hail storms, sleet, not much snow here, but when it does snow it always manages to snow at dismissal time, and other weather related problems.  Yet, our renovations of the admin building has become more important with a new regime change than these children.

Since I no longer depend on THEM for my paycheck, I fired off three emails to three board members.  I heard back from one.  One that I did not hear back from actually has grandchildren in our school, but of course his children are “perfect.”  I am so happy to report that the one board member that stood up for us may have actually changed the tide as it appears we will be getting our awnings as well as a new office area to remove the filthy carpet that the health department actually requested be done over a year ago.  Now, I don’t want to get too excited.  I’ll believe it when I see it, but I can keep the heat on now that I can say everything I always wanted to say but was afraid to!  Just to end on a descriptive note; the board member that brought this up asked the question, “Why does ****(name left out to protect the innocent) always have to suck hind tit.”  For those of you that don’t understand that particular analogy, ask a farmer.

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Women in the workplace circa 1900 and before

My grandmother on the assembly line at Fleischmann's Yeast in Dallas, Texas circe 1933

I learned something recently.  Many, some of a few – I don’t know which – wore a catheter when working.  They did this because there were no facilities available for them in town.  So under those long, dragging the dirty ground skirts was a gross urine filled catheter.  The Mr. always told me that if you lived back in “the good ole days” you would not call them the “good ole days.”

I wonder what else the workplace held for women back in the “good ole days.”

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