Posts Tagged ‘hospital’

Hospitality and Hospitals

Thursday, March 4th, 2010

My roommate drove me to the hospital last night so that I could get stitches on my left hand. Though all of my housemates look out for each other pretty well as “stick together to survive” is our cardinal rule*, I’m totally gonna get him a bottle of whiskey for the effort, especially since it was late at night.

But being in a hospital reminded me of something particular — as I’m Filippino, a lot of my extended family work in the medical industry.  Aside from having the chief exports of mechanical parts and electronics (myself included), garments, and food products, I think one should also consider the human resources generated by my motherland.  If any of you work (or in some cases like Evie, volunteer) at a hospital or in the medical field, chances are you’ve worked with a Filippino. Because the country’s bilingual nature provides an easy transition to English speaking countries, nurses and doctors come from the Philippines all the time. Usually, to take care of Americans. Probably Canadians, too.

Walang anuman.

Ok, so I have lots of family in the medical field, that’s established.  But as that’s the case, I think I’ve spent a lot of time in a hospital for someone who hasn’t had a lot of health issues. Some people hate hospitals because of the sterile coldness of it, but I’ve come to be pretty comfortable with it.  Yes, you are usually there because you’ve got a problem, but people are people and all workplaces have a culture, and if you can get along with that culture, you are better served and treated.

Also, just as a general life rule, it’s important to try and make people smile. Why? Because life gets easier when the people around you are happy. And it’s really not that fucking hard to not be an asshole. Try it, it pays off.

In any case, a couple of funny instances, even as I needed my sliced-open hand to get repaired:

Doctor: (slightly distracted, reading a file) “When it heals up, anyone with scissors will probably be able to help you get [the stitches] out. Preferably a medical professional or someone with medical experience — a medical professional with scissors.”

Nico: “So which do I find first, the scissors or the medical professional?”

[laughter]

At patient check-out:

Front Desk: “I should note that sometimes when we’re trying to get people processed so that they get medical attention, some details that don’t affect the actual issue slip so that you can see a doctor, but they’re easily fixed and we’re fixing it right now.”

Nico: “Fix what?”

Front Desk: “We filed you as a female.  We’re so sorry, but don’t worry, we’re fixing the record right now.”

Nico: “Hey, as long as the problem gets fixed, I don’t really care what gender I am.”

[laughter]

My point is, being hospitable in the hospital reminded me that if you know you’re dealing with the service industry in any capacity, it makes their respective jobs easier and they treat you better if you’re not a jerk.  This is seems like it would be common sense, but it constantly surprises me how often people feel that they’re entitled when they’re a customer. Wielding money isn’t an excuse to be a shithead.

Besides, you never know if you can get a laugh out of them. And who doesn’t like to laugh?  Ok fine, misanthropes, but nobody takes those people seriously.

___

*L4D reference.

Things You Find In Boxes

Sunday, March 8th, 2009

There are these things that occur across a lot of industries called “assets”; simply put, they are the raw materials needed to get a certain kind of job done.

In the web industries, assets are usually transferred over FTP.  Sometimes, those assets are very large files, and downloading them will take 3-5 hours.

What does one do while this is going on?  If you’re like me and work from home, you drink a lot of coffee thinking that the work will get started right away–then you’re wrong and you have to figure out something else to do while these giant files download.

So I decided to clean up my boxes.  I tell myself I live a portable lifestyle, but as soon as I begin to sort through this crap in an effort to become tidy, I realize that although my life is easily able to be lifted, it is all over the goddam place. That, and there was some weird stuff I kept in these boxes.

Here:

boxes

I would like to draw your attention to these little blue pods, as the red arrow indicates.

Okay, you say, what are those?

The way I remember the story, my Dad gave me these before I drove back to my apartment to help set up for a party.  He gave me these blue things, encouraging me to use them.

Dad: Are you going out drinking?
Nico: I’m drinking, but I’m helping host the party at my apartment.
Dad: Here, take these!
Nico: …Dad, what are these?
Dad: They’re for vomit.  I got them from work [a hospital].
Nico: I don’t think anyone’s going to drink that much, but … thanks?
Dad: Yeah, let me know how it goes.

So now that you know they are for barfing, how do they work?

With the help of Photoshop, I will simulate being drunk and proper use of the receptacle:

barf_01barf_02barf_03

Well, that’s that.

Now that I know I have three of these, I need exactly three parties to go to where people are planning on getting unreasonably drunk.

It’s too bad the weekend is over.