Duncan's Blog

I'm starting an opening sentence to keep the blog post active. I'm here for a learning seminar on health and safety in the workplace. I grew up and live in blue states so being here doesn't exactly resonate with me.
MORE on that as the week progresses...

I spent a week in Louisiana. I had never been there before.

I had fears about going as I had heard so many stories about the foods; sausages made of alligator, beans made with smoke, dishes that would set your mouth on fire. For the life of me, I will NEVER understand why some people actually enjoy eating foods that have ingredients that create a burning sensation in one's mouth. But, then again, there are people who cannot wrap their mind(s) around someone like me whose life motto is, "Bland is terribly underrated!"
I grew up on bananas and sour cream or peaches and pot cheese.
In any event, I spent two days in Lake Charles and four days in New Orléans. I did a tremendous amount of walking and in all that time, the sky opened for about a(n) half hour for a slight drizzle. One would think that all that walking on flat surfaces would have made me burn the calories. Well, what I noted was that the body was retaining water something fierce. My digits were swelling like tiny sausages that were somehow puffing up. What could it have been? I blame it on the salt.
I also had to make a mental note/decision as to where liberal arts compare-and-contrast observation ends and critical, subjective, judgmental criticism begins. I saw a lot of BIG people there. And by BIG, I mean morbidly obese. I saw a cross section of the population with an abundance of tattoos. The two don't go hand in hand, so please do not think that I am making a correlation. I am just noting two separate observations.
There was also a lot of smoking and vaping going on. Many of the restaurants that I had gone to had food choices that were rich in fats and there was a lot of drinking.

From the WiKi :

"The expression Laissez les bons temps rouler (alternatively Laissez le bon temps rouler, French pronunciation: [It] is a Louisiana French phrase. The phrase is a calque of the English phrase "let the good times roll", that is, a word-for-word translation of the English phrase into Louisiana French Creole.

"This phrase is often mentioned in Louisiana (especially New Orleans) and around the Gulf Coast where Mardi Gras is celebrated. It is well known touristically around the United States from television and radio."

I celebrate April long. It allows those folks who couldn't be with me on the actual birth DAY to still participate in the festivity.
I don't do much that would be considered exciting. Generally eat a meal out or go on a road trip. The trips lately have been to San Francisco (my second hometown).
This year I decided to go to Louisiana. I've never been and it's been on my bucket list for a long while. This trip included Lake Charles and New Orleans.
Some folks I know don't go anywhere or do anything outside their normal routine or comfort zone. As for me, I have been an independent traveller as long as I can remember. I went to Europe when I was 16 and stayed with a family in Austria. When I graduated from high school, I took AMTRAK and looked at universities in the midwest (mostly Illinois and Wisconsin). I wound up going to a city university in my hometown.
Finding a good travel companion can be as daunting as finding a soul mate. I have had a few who are--sadly--no longer among us. One who was a horror has made suggestions about wanting to go somewhere with me. I remember taking a cross-country trip with her and was ready to just abandon her a few times. Even when a travel companion is the worst of the worst, he/it/they/she should know that sometimes a body needs to be alone or do things alone without witnesses (other than toilet time).
At one point in my New Orleans experience, I just opted to walk aimlessly without a destination, map, or GPS. I wound up having lunch at the canteen of the Department of Veterans Affairs Medical Center (yeah, I know, who gets hospital food on vacation?), and I also stopped at an old-fashioned ethnic barbershop for a straight-edge razor shave. It was vintage and delightful.
There was also a blind date on the last day... while I dragged my suitcase with me before going to the airport. We met for coffee at CC's Coffee House (941 Royal St, New Orleans, LA 70116) after which he asked me if I'd like to see his studio. He lived in the French Quarter in a space that was once called the slaves' quarters. "Where they kept the slaves and livestock."
He was the kisser. And quite attentive. But what surprised me most about his was the casual way that he had asked me if I like to f**k. It took me off guard. No one had asked me since I was in my 30s. I told him that it had been a while, but I was pretty sure I could still do it. Asked him if he had a condom, which he did. Asked him to put it on me, which he did (while playing oral hockey with me). It was like riding a bicycle. And he was adept at the missionary position. I told him that I would be delighted to practice the technique again.

.....

Could I / would I ever live there? That is doubtful. I have learned to deal with the occasional earthquake. I live in a 100+ year old house that is still standing. I don't think I would want to live in a flood zone with the possibility of hurricane damage. I mean, I have to be mindful of the way I sit up and exhale when I get out of bed. Would such a person want to brave 90mph winds to get to a car that might overturn at a moment's notice? Nope.
Plus there is the incompatibility of being a blue Yankee. But that is for another time.

C(ardio) P(ulmonary) R(esuscitation)

It's a skill that I need to update on a quarterly basis. Lately I have been thinking about my competency. I have been performing my basic job tasks for close to two decades without failure. Sadly (or stupidly) new elements are added to my job description. I am put into a training class that may be an hour or two hours long. I am then given a test to finish. The results are put into my file and the task is never seen again.
Until it is needed 2 or 3 years down the line. How the heck am I supposed to remember what to attach where? How do I trouble shoot? What am I supposed to look for? What do the words that you are saying even mean? I had an instructor in school who used to yell at the students when they were examining catheters, "CHECK FOR PATENCY." When a student would ask me what it meant (and the instructor heard it) he would bellow out, "It's the state of being PATENT!"
That a**hole instructor got his comeuppance more than once from me. On a note I once wrote, "Patient rent her hospital gown." Rent? He was clueless. I told him that it was the past tense for rend. In another note, I wrote, "Singultus noted." Again he was clueless. He asked a classmate what that was and she said, "Singultus." He said to her, "Yes, I know that. What does it mean?" She said, "It means the patient is hiccuping." He asked her, "How the hell did you know that?" and without a blink she said, "It was on last week's vocabulary test."
I could not breathe life into this stupid dummy on the the 5th floor. Mind you I am 5-7 pounds short of being 200, so when I push down on the sternum (at the xiphoid process rather than at the manubrium), trust and believe the dummy feels it. I got zilch.
It was reported by me to the manager and the educator looked into it. Seems the dummy needed to have his lungs replaced. And so she did it. Our dummy on the 5th floor got a brand spanking new lunch. In case you were wondering, the lung(s) is/are nothing more than a plastic bag that is about as exciting as the kind you get at the produce section of your local grocery store (minus any writing on the bag).
I aced the test. No surprise there.
The biggest joke about this is that we are tested and retested every three months. Everyone must pass. And almost everyone from multiple disciplines must be checked for competency. When an actual code is called, in walk a(n) half to a dozen persons from nursing and medicine to lend assist. They bring the glucometer, oxygen tanks, paper and pen, the electronic blood pressure monitor with accompanying devices for checking hemodynamic stability, as well as assorted members of the peanut gallery. Oh let's not forget the police and the supervisors who have no business being there, but welcome the opportunity to leave their work stations to b*llsh*t with anyone who will listen to them as they shoot the breeze.

Yes, I am a union steward.

What do I do?

The major part of my work is filing grievances on behalf of employees. Basically, we work with a contact. if an employee feels he/she is being treated in a way that is contrary to what is in the agreement, we file a complaint.
The complaint is then heard by the supervisor or manager. If the complaint isn't settled, it is then heard by the service chief. If it still stinks, then we take it to the executive director.
Sometimes we win. Many times we don't. Supervisors and service chiefs of some departments act like a**holes. When that happens, we find ourselves in pretty good shape. No one likes it when underlings in positions of power are asleep at the wheel.
If our contract is not followed by the agency, then we file an unfair labor practice. This is with out outside federal agency that makes sure that signed contracts are being followed appropriately. This happens less frequently and takes longer to put together. It also is not very expeditious. But it's a tool.
Sometimes we just sit down face to face and let the people know what's going on and what we will not tolerate.
This past week I had egg in my face. An employee was AWOL. She told me that she had documentation to support her absence (sort of like a get out of jail free card). It went to the level of the executive director. What she DIDN'T tell me was that this card was used for PREVIOUS absences in the same week that were not mentioned as violations. And I didn't see that!
Sometimes I think my competency is wavering. I don't like doing what it is I do. And the person who oversees my work is leaving (retirement). I have had a dream a while ago of leaving and going to another location, but right now there is a hiring freeze and it is unlikely that anyone will be demanding my services.
Oh well... I only have about 7 or 8 more years of work before I hang up my work permit. What next? Greeter at WAL*MART ?

Something that I say to Millennials at work. They don't always seem to get it.

I work in nursing at a clinic run by the federal government. My work life in that arena is fairly simple and seldom has any complications or challenges. Even if I face clients who are uncooperative or combative, I shrug and remind them that they are welcome to take anything I say or offer with acceptance or refusal.

My work as a union activist is another matter, however. The other day someone came to my office with a copy of his performance appraisal. He had been sitting on it for over three months. He got a bug up his a** because his appraisal was not outstanding in all of the elements (categories) of his title. I told him that fully successful was a good mark and that seldom does anyone get appraised as outstanding in everything. The agency believes that that discourages employees from striving to improve. Instead, he saw it as 'the man' doing his best to retaliate against him for questioning authority in the past.

In this instance, the employee had passed the statute of limitations for this because he had 30 days to report the event (he had waited three months). I did, however, have a sit-down with him and his supervisor. The supervisor was not a person of influence to make any changes, but she told him that she did believe that his work was outstanding. She also told him that he should consider choosing his battles wisely, and not to make a big fuss about this. Appraisals are made every six months and another one would be coming up soon.

But he has it in his mind that he will be going back to school for higher education (a social worker? a doctor? a scientist?) and that this mediocre grade will some how blemish his chances in his rising star trajectory.

He's back at his desk and is somewhat cool around me. He pays his dues to the union (like everyone else), but somehow feels as if the union hasn't done enough for him. We don't pull rabbits out of hats. Sometimes we win and sometimes we don't. There are times when I am just ready to hang up my hat and leave this labor representation, but who will cover for me. Few people want to go up to the plate.