Christmas Break

I'm taking a break for the next couple weeks. Time to recharge the ol' batteries and refocus as we move into 2012.

Have a blessed Christmas, joyful New Year, and may you and your families have a wonderful holiday season together!

Hello, God?

At St. Fozzie's, we adhere to Quint Studer principles of Service Excellence. This means we have a whole formula for why we do what we do when we're trying to create a culture of excellence for our patients and staff.

One of these formulas is something called AIDET. It's an acronym for Acknowledge- Introduce- Duration- Explanation- Thank you. It's how staff are supposed to interact with patients.

For example, "Hi Mrs. Bloggski, my name is Dorrie. I've worked at St. Fozzie's for many years and have performed hundreds of ultrasounds. You're in good hands. Your ultrasound will take about 10 minutes, then a doctor will come in and review the results with you before you leave. Do you have any questions about the procedure? Thanks for choosing St. Fozzie's."

[Or something like that.]

In our Lean meeting last Friday, I invited one of those most studious, devout members of the Lean team to lead us in prayer to kick off the meeting.

We're good like that, starting each meeting with a prayer. It's the expectation.

Anyway, this wonderful employee started the prayer by saying, "Hello, my name is Barb," introducing herself to God.

We all cracked up, figuring God probably doesn't need introductions! "Hello, God, my name is Dorrie. This prayer will take about 5 minutes after which I will look for peace and feelings of joy. Thank you for choosing to populate Earth!

Luckily, she was a good sport and the meeting was very productive and energetic!

Quick Funny

The Lion King

Well, I achieved one of my fourth quarter goals...of getting in trouble at work.

Rooted in my intrinsic respect for authority, I challenged myself to push the envelope so far that I actually got reprimanded. I don't plan on setting this goal too often; I just wanted to prove that I could get in trouble and not die or suffer dismemberment.

This happened on Tuesday. Passing each other in the hall, my CFO met my eye and sternly said one phrase: "we need to talk."

Crap. Here we go.

So after a day's worth of meetings, I gingerly knocked on his office door and let myself in. He commended me for how I've been single-handedly addressing a wicked lawsuit and commended me on it...then firmly and objectively reprimanded me for not telling him about the dollar amounts involved.

The CFO wanted to know about the financial hit to the operating margin two weeks before year end? Whoops.

Duh.

My bad!

I've never actually had this happen, but it reminded me of how a daughter would have felt when taking daddy's credit card without permission and charging a new pony. The CFO *is* 30 years older than me and he probably sees me more of a daughter than a colleague.

Later that week, Nurse Jackie and I got into a quasi-fight with him about the Lion King. He purchased stuffed lions for his grandkids and was telling us about it. He mentioned that he "bought the big, fatherly lion, Simba, and still needed to find the cub lion."

I corrected him. The big, fatherly lion was Mufasa, not Simba. Simba's the cub lion (friend to Nala and son to Serabi). The monkey is Rafiki and the evil uncle is Scar. The big is Zazu. His friends are Timon and Pumba.

I know my Lion King.

He insisted that the dad lion was Simba and then admitted he'd never seen the Lion King.

Me? Trying to earn respect with the senior executives and differentiate myself from the daughter role into which they cast me...I gave the CFO a DVD copy of the Disney cartoon movie, the Lion King.

If you can't beat 'em, join them!

Avoiding the Scale

Well, I achieved my goal of having all our Christmas cards done and out, our gifts purchased and wrapped, and everything feeling calm before the holidays. I did it! Now I can kick back with Charlie Brown's Christmas until we break for the holidays, right?

Actually, the head secretary in Administration has taken to playing the soundtrack to Charlie Brown's Christmas in Admin throughout the day. On repeat. Every time I walk through the office, "Hark the Harold Angels" is on, from the end of the Charlie Brown movie. It's hard not to picture the kids singing by Charlie Brown's little tree as I scurry from meeting to meeting.

We have scads of forbidden Christmas lights adorning our cute little trees and seas of beautiful poinsettias coming out from every angle. Charlie Brown sets the mood. We love that little dude because the whole scene reminds us that it's a special time. That it's okay to slow down a step and take it all in.

Those little things help us keep it together when the Season O'Parties starts.

This week ushered in the formal Christmas season at work, with no fewer than 396 parties between now and the 23rd. I could literally attend a party every night this next week...Monday for Bariatrics, Tuesday's lunch for Administration, dinner with with medical staff, Wednesday for MS, Thursday night with the interns/residents, Friday with Diabetes, Saturday with Occupational Medicine. And I missed the hospital operations/nursing party last Friday. The employee dinners are next week and I was asked to serve dinner (4-6pm) at each campus and midnight shift at one of the campuses (11p-1a). So that'll be fun; everyone's always quite hyper and sugar-laden!

While this is fun because I save on my personal food bill, it is so very difficult to keep the cravings under control when you're surrounded by fantastic food, flowing wine, and Italian Christmas sweets. Did I mention someone brought in Oreo truffles? Are they trying to give us all Diabetes!?

I wouldn't care, but I am *not* buying new pants!

A LONG Weekend

This past weekend ushered in a lot of emotions and feelings I'm not quite sure how to process. This post is more for me than it is you.

It all started on Friday, with the terrific retreat I had with corporate leadership. It actually takes place on the convent grounds and it's so beautiful. I woke up to the first decent snowfall of the season and after a couple hours of white-knuckled travel, I actually started to relax (cue the stress let-down migraine!). Our group of 20 from around the system will come together for two days a total of ten times over the next two years. I was honored to even be considered for the program and stoked when, after the opening prayer service, they collected our blackberries and iphones. They wanted us to unplug and they meant it!

[I went into a quick, sweaty panic attack for I hadn't put my "out of office" notice up on Outlook.]

The whole point of the program is to get to know your peers in the group via classroom time together, communal eating, and fellowship. They're trying to make us stakeholders in the mission of Muppetville, so we continue the traditions in an era of declining religious vocations. I'm in so far over my head, as the youngest and lowest ranking in the group. There's one other younger woman in the group, who was on the Boca conference as well, and we're really bonding.

She rocks. She's one of those power women. And I will call her Ra. As in "she Ra."

The whole first day was used to break open the group and get people talking. Then we had a happy hour with a full bar followed by a stunning dinner with seabass and prime rib. The food was amazing and we intermingled with nuns and religious at meals (what was that vow of poverty? Does that not include prime rib?). Then I went where no woman has gone before...I played Euchre with the Mother Superior of the entire convent.

How freaking neat is that?!

But we lost. She was my partner and apparently her record is, like, 204-1. Make that 204-2! I hope this doesn't damage my chances of promotion within the system!

Seriously though, after Day 1, my head felt full and I felt so insecure. I don't have problems understanding philosophy and Thomistic roots of the Catholic liturgy, but I feel insecure because I have a mere fraction of the life experience of the others. I inwardly wondered what I could possibly have to offer the others in our group discussions. I decide that I wasn't going to self-select out and disengage, asking questions anyway. I think it's a matter of emotional intelligence; I'm still thinking about "me" when others are thinking "us."

Ra and I pow-wowwed for a couple hours Friday night and talked through our similar reactions to Day 1. I felt better after talking to her and we immediately agreed to put a standing meeting on our calendars where we could safely discuss our fears, questions, and victories.

I barely slept that night, keyed up from the day's activities and anticipating Zibby's wedding the next day. Day 2 of the retreat was better than day 1; we discussed metaphorical theology's interpretations of paternalistic models and paradigms and worked through philosophies of paradigm-shifts (that's fancy for "change management"). We discussed the history of monastic traditions and how healthcare evolved from those organizations. These utterly geeky subject matter excited me for my first theology class in my resumed-degree...Synoptic Gospels. I have a sneaking suspicion that this program and my classes are going to go hand-in-hand.

God has a sense of humor like that.

Anyway, I left the retreat and went straight over to my folks' house to dress for the wedding. Exhausted from the outstanding experiences and mind candy, I launched into adrenaline mode for the wedding. We arrived and I almost didn't recognize my brothers, Brady and Zibby. Both looked stunning. Both looked grown-up. And I felt old. Time marches on.

The wedding was pretty quick, albeit very nice, and Zibby married Libby. They're young, stupid, and penniless. But so were Jack and I when we got married, so I couldn't really cast stones at the young couple. My mom was a wreck and she squeezed my hand into numbness during the ceremony. Then Zibby asked Mom to dance during the mother/son dance and everyone in the family had red eyes as they swayed to "Unforgettable."

You know how some distinct experiences immediately over-write any preconceived memories you may attach to a song? That's how it was with "Unforgettable." It'll always be Zibby and Mom's song now.

As an afternoon wedding, it wrapped up early and my aunts and uncles hung around the hall, wondering when the party would start (like any good Pollack). A few of us shared stories and margaritas, trying to digest the fact that little Zibby is now a husband and father with his own family and home.

That night, Jack sacked out in my folks' recliner while Mom and I sat on the couch and listened to my dad and Brady rehash the wedding. Next thing I knew, I felt dad lightly covering mom and I up with a blanket and flipping off the light. I can't remember the last time she and I napped on each others' shoulders...probably when my grandma passed away some 12 years ago.

We knew we had to stay the night. It was Zibby's first official night out of the house. His empty room hit us all squarely in the gut. It was real. He was gone. And that was the first time I experienced empty nest syndrome...and I haven't lived in that house since I was 18! I couldn't even imagine the pain my folks felt with his absence. It felt natural to stay over and give them one more night with a full house.

In my mom's words, a full house is a full heart.

And so we stayed.

The morning came quickly and Jack and I departed for our own home. The weekend left me unsettled and uniquely overwhelmed....yet, oddly at peace. It was as though one chapter is ending and another beginning.

And I'm going to be okay!

M&M's

I've been swimming through a sea of electronic employee evaluations lately, toiling on my laptop, from under my new heated throw, in the glow of the Christmas tree, with mindless Christmas fodder on nearly silent in the background. Movies such as "Home Alone," "Christmas Vacation," and "Elf" work best for this type of activity. You know, where you can look up at any time and know exactly what's going. The ultimate bubble gum of entertainment.

"Polar Express" requires too much thought and I still get sucked into the subliminal messages it sends. I believe!

Anyway, I finished my last evaluation today. I'm thrilled. The monkey is off my back!

I love giving people evaluations. Well, I love AND hate it. On one hand, it forces you to make judgment calls on peoples' behavior and work performances. On the other, evals afford you a chance to give people things to work on. Ways to grow. Stretch assignments.

Except that I totally flubbed up on this last year. We spent all this time figuring out what goals to shoot for and what to achieve this year. And I didn't keep those goals in front of their faces very well. Some are driven and met their goals anyway. Others needed prompting, but seriously, if they don't achieve their goals and I mistakenly shoved them on a bookcase all year and produced them again in December, whose fault is it? Mine.

So my plan is to create Goal tabulation sheets for each manager. And as part of THEIR goals, they will be expected to do the same for their staff. Cascading goals, baby!

In fact, when I met with my managers for our team meeting yesterday, I gave them samples of what I'm looking for on these goal sheets....goals need to be specific and quantitative, but some of the issues they're dealing with are "softer." I needed a quick way to keep track of their progress. I thought it was pretty funny myself:


Nurse Ratchett
2012 Goals
Q1/Q2/Q3/Q4
Discussed_____________

1. Read one book about the history of M&M’s.

2. Track the amount of M&M’s ingested by department employees between 2:30-3:00pm; your goal is 100 per day.

3. Update department policy regarding expectations for consumption of M&M’s by April 1, 2012.

4. Engage staff to create one process improvement regarding stocking of M&M’s.

5. On a continually basis, help employees understand that the M&M characters on television are not real and when we eat M&M’s, we are not eating their family members. Recommend EAP/counseling to employees particularly struggling with this fact.

When I unlocked my office this morning, there were TWO bags of M&M's jammed under my door!

So not only is the monkey off my back, but my addiction has been fed another few days!

Quote Journal: Birds

"Use what talent you possess: the woods would be very silent if no birds sang except those that sang best."

— Henry Van Dyke

Tidbits from the Nuthouse

And by "nuthouse," I mean, "work."

Ever since Thanksgiving (which, for the record, was a tremendous weekend that recharged our batteries with family, fantastic food, and memories of why we're wonderfully weird together), it's been a full moon at work. Employees seem to get antsy around the holidays and act out. Just a few tidbits to share with you:

Last week, I had to suspend one of the paramedics for driving 60 mph in a 30mph zone (with no lights and sirens and they were not transporting a patient). It was reckless driving and gross negligence. When I confronted the leadfoot, he asked me how I knew. I responded that I SAW HIM on the road. Then I had the manager check the telenavigation, "black box" to see how fast he was traveling in the ambulance. Then he had the guts to tell me I was lying.

I was lying? Hmmm.

Another employee, newly engaged to one of the new nurse managers (who is a passionate pistol who gets things accomplished and I respect her), developed a God complex. Engaged to one of the hospital leaders and suddenly privy to some of the inner-workers of the hospital, thought he no longer had to listen to his own manager (and director). He fed me a few lines about how the department isn't notified of hospital events so they could participate (they are). But we then made him the "events director" in the department to charge HIM with educating everyone on the hospital's events.

You want it, you got it, buddy!

The last instance of weirdness was with the employee who brought, um, "literature" to work. Are you good at unscrambling words? He brought NORP to work (I'm not having *that* word on my blog). The manager called me early Thursday morning and asked me to come visit, for I had to see something. I argued that I couldn't; my morning was full of meetings at the other campus, but he should send me a picture. I figured someone was sleeping on the job or maybe did something great like vacuum the department.

My phone beeped with the picture's arrival. It was the cover of a provocatively-posed men's magazine. A text followed from the manager, "here's your pic. Can I scrape my eyeballs out yet?"

No joke.

Sighing heavily, I had the manager confiscate the "literature" from this employee's mailbox. This employee has had nine write-up's in the last two years and I needed a reason to term him. Unfortunately, I couldn't prove the NORP was his. But we did find that he falsified his time clock record the previous morning.

Bingo. Insert red shoes here.

Actually, since I was at an off-site meeting at St. Piggy's Hospital, I had the manager don his own red shoes to fire this employee. He texted me the progress throughout my meeting and it was done. And it was good.

I'm sorry; I don't like firing people. But they usually fire themselves and you're just carrying out the duty.

I'm hoping things settle down the next few weeks. I am in the midst of my three road trips in 11 days that will log me close to 1000 miles. The first road trip was phenomenal; I saw my buddy Joe and his tremendous Lean work at St. Piggy's. St. Fozzie's is so far behind St. Piggy's, but it gives me something great to shoot for. And the road trips give me a lot of time to percolate my ideas and turn them into some executionable options.

The next trip is to Muppet Corporate for a leadership enhancement program I was asked to join. It's a group of 20 of us from across the system and it has HOMEWORK (I have a paper to write for it!). We have a total of 10 two-day retreats up at corporate and none of us really know what to expect from this program. Retreat #1 is next weekend, coinciding nicely with Zibby and Libby's wedding. The following Monday, I have another meeting at St. Piggy's, where I'm somehow supposed to lead a corporate collaborative on wound care.

This is daunting. I'm not sure how I'm going to pull together 14 hospitals' clinical practices of in-and-outpatient wound care. I'll take tips if you have them!

Things are great, though, and I'm feeling blessed. When our housekeeper came on Thursday, she left a big box of homemade Christmas cookies for us. I sort of wish I could come home to homemade cookies every Thursday! That little surprise made us realize we should try out our free membership to Peapod. We end up buying the same lists of stuff over and over again; in the name of efficiency, this will save us time and energy and I'm stoked.

So how are things going in your nuthouse?

:)

Advent Busyness

One thing I hate about myself is that, when people ask me how I am or how things are going, I inevitably answer "busy."

Isn't everyone busy this time of year? Isn't everyone busy most times of the year?

I'd like to propose a change. Let's just assume, across the board, that everyone's crazy busy. And when someone asks you how you are or how things are going, you are NOT allowed to answer busy. We know you're busy, but how are things really going?

Wouldn't it be refreshing if, when you asked your spouse or neighbor or friend how they were doing and they replied, "fantastic!" Or maybe "excellent!" When someone answers "busy," we instantly start comparing notes to see who is truly busier. It's a voracious cycle where both parties leave the conversation feeling winded, burdened, and well, too busy.

When we're highly-scheduled and busy, we think we're important. But it's not true. You can make a huge difference in this cold, dark world by bringing peace, a slower pace, and joy to those around you. My personal motto this season is "don't be harried."

"Harried" is a code word for "busy!"

I've been making a point to not say the "b" word (or the "h" word) in the course of conversation. No one really cares that I'm busy. Busyness is a choice, just like the choices to love someone or to be happy. It's all within our power to choose, with a little conscious discipline to stop that "b" word from rolling off our tongues.

It's a tough change, however, not unlike the changes we're grappling with at mass (you knew I had to address this sometime!). It's been a much-publicized updating of the English mass; we've been hearing about the changes for months and now we're living them. You get so into auto-pilot mode and answer certain ways out of habit. For example, we're no longer saying "And also with you," but "And with your spirit." Technically, it's a two-word change and yet, throughout the two masses we've attended since the Church's "go live" of the new format of mass, the congregation muddles through with a mish-mash, "And also with, um, oops, your spirit." Then they turn to their neighbors and sort of giggle because, c'mon, it's two words and we still cannot unlearn decades of repetition.

For the record, the mass changes are beautiful. The changes have forced us to slow down and refocus on what our faith tradition teaches. It's like hearing our own mass from an outsider's perspective and Advent couldn't have been a better time to become reacquainted with our tradition....in the midst of the busyness of Christmas preparation.

We're all busy. Let's get over it. I challenge you (and me) to eradicate that word from our vocabulary and unlearn the concept of busy.