Last night, at 10:39 pm, I finished my Franciscan Leadership program work. Nineteen essay questions, in the midst of my usual 250+ email Hades and operational madness that always arises each day. I "celebrated" my success in fully completing the two-year program this morning by allowing myself to sleep in past 6 am. I'm not sure where the days and weeks have gone. The old rumors are true- never go into an area of the hospital and say, "Man! It's QUIET!" It's an evil curse; once someone utters the "Q" word, it's all over. Then all of the sudden, it's Sunday night and time to start the madness all over again.
Like, today. I have seven total campuses and visited one of the smaller, community hospital settings to A) catch my breath, B) visit with my second-favorite radiologist (who kind of reminds me of an older rockstar), and C) help out during the employee Mammothon. This is where we open up the Breast Center and allow walk in appointments for the community. Local media usually visits and we have enough freebies to overwhelm a used car salesman. Our community Mammothons are in October but we wanted to highlight the staff and offer them the same opportunities. After all, most of the healthcare workers in the US are women. So off to "Gonzovent" I went. It's not uncommon to actual see episodes of Andy Griffith playing in the cafeteria- the pace of life is far slower at Gonzoville. I spend most of my waking hours at the primary St. Gonzo campus so the break was welcome.
After visiting with my second-favorite radiologist (after all, my most-favorite radiologist gives us free tickets to huge concert events...don't worry, each "free" ticket is paid for a lot of problem solving and conflict resolution- ugh!), I rounded on the department's employees and had a great one-on-one chat with the manager.
Then I got an urgent page that St. Gonzo's imaging department (the main one across town) flooded. Noah would've been proud. I was then treated to text message pictures of used linen and old towels baracading the water from the VERY expensive CT and Nuclear Medicine panels. After a few calls, I got the right people to respond but I don't like to risk about $12M in imaging equipment because of a faulty toilet (or three). Soon after, I received a 911 that not one, but two of our three MRI's went down at the primary campus.
Back at Gonzoville, I relaxingly talked with the Breast Center employees who were preparing for Mammothon. Our delightful conversation was interrupted by an urgent page from another imaging department reporting a bed bug infestation.
Bed bugs? Seriously? What's next, an interview with 20/20? Maybe just a plague of locusts?!
Returning to my Breast Center conversations, I succumbed to at least three employees peer pressuring me to get my annual mammogram, too. I shrugged it off, uncertain of whether I wanted one of my technologists to see my tatas. I soon realized that it was a unique opportunity to 'walk the walk.' By letting them run car tires over my girls, I could influence others to get their mammograms, too. And I did! I had my exam and then was able to convince six other imaging employees to get theirs. Strange, violating, exposing mission accomplished.
And now I can never look that technologist in the eye again. Yikes.
I have a strange hang-up about being too vulnerable in front of my staff. Yes, I want them to see my humanity and relate to me as a fellow human. But I'm very protective of my off hours. I don't like going to church with my staff. It's too intimate. I dislike going to the store and seeing employees. They peer into my shopping cart, analyzing my food choices and counting my servings of veggies. And the gym? Forget it. I rock out to my music and pound through my workout and really don't want to sweat with colleagues. It's just gross.
But I finally conceded and agreed with Jack that it was time to move into an actual house. After moving to Indianapolis (as renters!) over eight months ago, we had completely transitioned to our new home, new dentist, new friends, new Meijer, new church, etc. I even found a primary care provider I can stand. So what will we do? MOVE! It's a nice house and I'm proud that I finally got over myself and my vulnerability phobias. Dangit, I will soon have to pray, shop, and sweat with my colleagues.
So I came home tonight to a list of pre-new-house activities from Jack. I again lamented my fear that the contents of my Meijer cart were going to be public knowledge again and he looked directly at me and said, "REALLY? Are you kidding? Your employee saw your breasts today and your radiologist saw INSIDE your breasts today! You have no excuse as to why you can't go to the gym with your employees now!"
Touche.
So much for a relaxing day at Gonzoville. Maybe tomorrow will resume the busyness?!
(And that's what I've really been up to! In the last eight months, I have stricken the word "normalcy" from my vocabulary!)
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