Sunday, March 15, 2015
sunday poker face
I'm having one of those Sundays like I had ALL THE TIME when I was a kid.
Feeling sad, feeling bad, dreary, dark. Foreboding.
Likely this feeling is due to it being the LAST DAY OF MY VACATION
It's been a really long time since I've had the Sunday Saddies (i think maybe that's a ms moon term).
Like years. And years.
Even The Wolf Man had a hard time making me smile today.
OK. Not that hard. But that's because IT'S SO DAMN EASY for me to smile when I look at him.
Still. I realized I'm dreading going back to work tomorrow. Which totally sucks because I've loved my job for so many years.
I'm the same. My patients are the same. The JOB is different.
Thank you fuck you healthcare. And I'm not talking about the Affordable Care Act.
I'm talking about the Business of Medicine.
Electronic medical records suck ass.
All that crap about improving patient care and decreasing errors and facilitating communication between primary caregivers, specialists and hospitals is just a load of horseshit.
Seriously. It's frightening.
AND insurance companies have found loopholes in the ACA so as of Jan 1 some aren't paying for the most basic medications.
Medications that some kids have been stable on for years all of a sudden aren't available.
I'M TALKING ABOUT KIDS GODDAMMIT!!!
Sometimes I find myself ranting at work and I feel like I'm in The Emperor's New Clothes.
Really people??? You are all smart and well educated and you chose PEDIATRICS.
Don't tell me you don't see what's going on. Don't tell me this crap is OK with you.
I wish there were still country doctors.
I would love to make house calls and check on people and hand write a prescription for amoxicillin
or even ritalin if that's what a kid needs.
Oh. Right. You can't do that anymore. It's against the law.
I'd get arrested just like that 87 year old doc down south.
I think I have to make a change. I've tried to change my thinking and change my view and change my expectations. I've tried to accept the change and see the benefits. But there's not a single one.
OK. There's ONE. I can sent a prescription electronically so moms and dads can leave my office with their sick kid and go straight to the pharmacy rather than driving around in circles. Other than that the whole thing stinks.
My Daddy, who was a physician well loved by his patients, saw the writing on the wall 25 years ago.
When I told him I was going back to school for medicine his response was
"have you thought about law?"
So I will put on my poker face and act as if and talk the talk to get through my work days until my next break. And I will keep going to yoga and knitting and watching Scandal and the Walking Dead and Sons of Anarchy to decompress from the frustrations of my day.
I'll look forward to spring and warm weather and my garden.
And maybe I'll figure out how to come to terms with this change. Because as I'm writing I'm realizing the problem is that it's not just a job. It's not just a career. It's what I DO. It defines me. It defines me as much as Woman and Mother. It's what I AM. And I can't let that be fucked with.
Your fairy is called Columbine Icedancer
She is a bone chilling bringer of justice for the vulnerable.
She lives in mushroom fields and quiet meadows.
She is only seen when the bees swarm and the crickets chirrup.
She wears lilac and purple like columbine flowers. She has icy blue butterfly wings.