Sunday, December 5, 2010

Oy...

Hoo, where to begin...

Firsties, making good progress on the socks. Finished one, just started the heel on the other. Boyfriend tried on the finished sock, it fits pretty well although, as I kinda feared, the foot is a touch short. Also, I'm a bit nervous about if I have enough yarn...if all else fails, Boyfriend will just have to deal with a sock that has a different color toe.

socks so far:


I have the great privilege to work at Harborview Medical Center, in the cafeteria. I won't lie, the work can sometimes be incredibly frustrating (like when a customer spills ranch dressing all over the salad bar I just spent a half-hour getting clean and organized) and rushed (there is nothing quite like trying to refill soup when all of the radiologists decide that they want chowder at the exact same time), but the benefits (both monetary and otherwise) are great. One of the greatest joys a person can ever experience is witnessing a person healing, getting better day after day, coming to see you and giving updates as to how they are doing, and simply being a positive impact on that patient's experience.

With that being said, Harborview Medical Center is a great place to work....for the most part.

ahem.

Tonight seemed like a typical Sunday night. I was working the hot line next to the grill cook, keeping the area clean and such. We closed on time, got as much as we could in order for the next day. Until.

Until.

DISCLAIMER: THE FOLLOWING DOES NOT REFLECT MY FEELINGS ABOUT HMC!!!!!

I had to restock my beverage cart.

This task is usually nothing special: I just wheel the cart into our back pantry and refill the mountain dew and gatorade so we can have easy access to it tomorow. I did so, as usual, but there was something definately not right...I bumped the door on my way in, and it shut behind me. No big deal,  that's happened before. The door is always unlocked before the PM supervisor leaves.

But not tonight it wasn't.

As I was trying to leave with my full cart, I grabbed the door handle...woudln't budge.

Oh crap.

I gave it a few shakes...still nothing.

"Hello??? Help??? Can someone let me out?"

I began to call out, hoping that some of the dishroom staff would be able to hear me...to no avail.

I really started to panic...did Supervisor lock the door early tonight??? How long am I gonna be stuck??

I kept on pounding at the door, yelling at the top of my lungs for a good FIFTEEN minutes before Supervisor and Grill cook finally let me out...Grill cook couldn't stop laughing. The dishroom staff snickered at me as I passed with my drink cart in tow, glowering.

Supervisor told me that she didn't realize I was stuck in there...that she heard someone shouting "Help," but that she assumed that someone was watching TV on their Iphone.

I am totally not making that up.

I put drink cart away, muttering angrily under my breath..."seriously? SERIOUSLY??", got the rest of my work done as quick as I could given that I had lost fifteen minutes, and was able to clock out just before my seven minute grace period was up.

I came home, still furious, and did what I usually do whenever I am royally pissed off: I called Mom.

The first thing she did was snort with laughter. As did my sister. And everyone else I have told this epic tale to.

But I digress.

Phone call to mom honestly brought me down to reality...My grandmother (who was the one to teach me the basics of knitting and embroidery) had just had a stroke. Luckily, she and my grandfather recognized the symptoms right away and went to the hospital, where she is now resting comfortably. Mom says that she's stabilizing, is talking and conscious, and hopefully the damage to her brain is only minimal.

That news honestly brought me back down from my tower of resentment and frustration. I have no right to be complaining about being locked in the pantry when my grandmother has just had a stroke. My mom is flying out to see her; I'm sending my love with her. And I will be praying HARD for my Gramma tonight.

Here's to knowing our priorities.

No comments:

Post a Comment