When I was a dental nurse I used to look on in envy at the receptionists sipping tea or maybe looking through a clothes catalogue in a leisurely manner. What a life I used to grumble to the dentist as I was dashing around stocking up the surgery, getting xrays developed, getting patients into the surgery, clearing up and sterilizing and bagging up instruments.
Well, my health hasn't been too good this year so I decided, after much thought to give up nursing and try my hand at being a happy, smiley receptionist instead.
I don't know what has gone wrong, I really don't. Well, I can pin it down actually, its the patients, they keep appearing. I have worked two mornings and one afternoon this week, and I am having a really hard time believing its only wednesday! If I drank alcohol I think I would have a real problem by now with the amount I would have to consume to calm the stress.
Monday started out routinely enough, except the usual receptionist was ill, so my daughter had been drafted in, despite finishing the previous Friday in preparation for a new life at uni. I had a bit of ordering to do, so when people asked my name, I said "Annabel" just in case I had made mistakes, and therefore couldn't be located. A previous receptionist covered the afternoon with the normal, quite new girl who does reception and nursing.
Tuesday, oh, theres a bit of paperwork left over, and a pile of cards with messages on. First 15 minutes was fine, and I realise why now - first appointment is 9am, so the patients appear at reception around 9.10. We have 3 surgeries, so if the first patient is a check up thats 3 sets of forms to get signed, 3 lots of money to take and record, and 3 new appointments to make. We are not computerised, so we have to write on the back of the record card the amount and method of payment, write the patients name and dentist number on all receipts, write the date of their next appointment on the front of the record card and on the patients appointment card and then fill out the forms. When the pile is of reasonable size, a foot maybe, we have to put the cards and forms into alphabetical order, enter names into a folder and then pass everything to the relevant dentist to be signed. Everything then comes back to the desk, record cards to be filed and forms to be sent off. As I am typing this I realise how flippin archaeic it all is. Most practices are computerized which cuts the work down to taking money, making appointments and printing everything else.
The pile of paperwork by the end of Tuesday morning was mounting. No panic, we will cope. The afternoon receptionist sent me a text to say that the afternoon had produced more paperwork than they could cope with and she was sorry. Its like the never emptying porridge pot, it won't be long before we are drowning in paper and cards. So far this week I haven't had time to think about a cup of tea, let alone get as far as the kettle.
Wednesday, thats today, although I feel as though I have worked for 3 weeks straight already! Had the morning off as my daughter left for uni. That in itself has generated a humungous pile of old clothes, books, shoes plus rubbish to be sorted through. I will skip the leaving bit. Although I joke about 3 down, 1 to go, I am sad. The offspring left at home is male and when he makes an appearance to reassure us he hasn't died in front of his pc it is brief. I will miss my daughters girly mind! Having to watch things like Teen Mom, Keeping up with the Kardashians and various netflix box sets is now a think of the past. Not such a bad thing actually.
Into work, more cards, more patients. Of course, you get the families in during the afternoons. I just can't bear to say anymore, I really can't. We now have the leaning tower of Pisa on the desk. I think we would have more chance of clearing it if it was the leaning tower of pizza! At least we could give some of it away!
I just don't know how the previous receptionists did it. Maybe I am talking to the patients too much. Must stop being hapoy and smiley, although stressed and panicky is rapidly taking over. My mantra by thd end of the day was "go away and don't talk to me" ......
Wednesday 14 September 2016
Tuesday 6 September 2016
Bollox day
Feeling crap. Took daughter to Portsmouth on Saturday flat hunting. I knew it would make me ill but tbh it was a case of doing it to save all of our sanity! Less said about it all the better, suffice to say daughter is off to uni and decided with 5 weeks to go that she didn't want to live in halls, her and boyfriend were moving in together. One bed flats are like gold dust and disappear the minute the details reach the letting agent. When you live over 140 miles away and can only view on Saturdays you don't stand much chance. Anyway, the deed is done, assuming all the checks are clear, and we can all relax, for a few months anyway!
Anyway, bastard dog needs to go out, no matter how I feel, and because he will only go out with me there is no other choice. Getting a bit fed up of going to the common so decided to go around the houses and on to the park.
Dog whinged and whined whilst I had breakfast and a cuppa and shredded yet more of the stick he brought home yesterday. The floor is covered in bits of wood and dead slipper, to be cleared up later!
He was pretty well behaved on the lead for once, no pulling and trying to race ahead like a steam train. Got to the wildlife area of the park, no more than 2 minutes in and bastard had found a whopping pile of fox poo to lather himself in. I despair, I really do. Warned a man walking his dog not to try stroking him, not that Milo lets people near anyway. Oh its easy enough to wash them said the man who's dog obviously never rolls. When you feel like crap and have to do it on a regular basis its not flippin easy.
Right, carry on, muttering to myself, along the river, or in the river if you are Milo. Run around like a lunatic in the long grass, which always puts a smile on my face. I have to admit, its not me running in the grass, after 4 children my bladder is like a seive! Milo did have a good run with a couple of dogs and I decided to take him further to try and really use up what energy he had left. He was puffing and panting and again good on the lead. Came to a bit I could let him off the lead again as it was away from the road so he had freedom again. So much for the calm dog, all I am going to say is cat. Might add bastard again for good measure!
Its husbands birthday tomorrow so I have made a cake. Not quite as big a cake as planned, but a cake nonetheless. As I was putting the cake tin in the oven I accidentally touched the red hot rack. The instant reaction is to withdraw your hand quickly, which I did, dropping the cake tin as I did. Before I could yell "bluddy hell thats hot" bastard had his tongue around the falling mixture, lapping up as much as he could before the 3 second rule could take effect. I think I might already have said I despair, but I really do....
My lounge floor, which I have cleared and hoovered, is now littered with bits of (madly) torn up paper, formerly flat details and an electoral roll letter left on the side table, and a plastic lidl carrier bag, stolen from the kitchen. Anyone want a manic, shit rolling, seemingly untrainable dog?
Anyway, bastard dog needs to go out, no matter how I feel, and because he will only go out with me there is no other choice. Getting a bit fed up of going to the common so decided to go around the houses and on to the park.
Dog whinged and whined whilst I had breakfast and a cuppa and shredded yet more of the stick he brought home yesterday. The floor is covered in bits of wood and dead slipper, to be cleared up later!
He was pretty well behaved on the lead for once, no pulling and trying to race ahead like a steam train. Got to the wildlife area of the park, no more than 2 minutes in and bastard had found a whopping pile of fox poo to lather himself in. I despair, I really do. Warned a man walking his dog not to try stroking him, not that Milo lets people near anyway. Oh its easy enough to wash them said the man who's dog obviously never rolls. When you feel like crap and have to do it on a regular basis its not flippin easy.
Right, carry on, muttering to myself, along the river, or in the river if you are Milo. Run around like a lunatic in the long grass, which always puts a smile on my face. I have to admit, its not me running in the grass, after 4 children my bladder is like a seive! Milo did have a good run with a couple of dogs and I decided to take him further to try and really use up what energy he had left. He was puffing and panting and again good on the lead. Came to a bit I could let him off the lead again as it was away from the road so he had freedom again. So much for the calm dog, all I am going to say is cat. Might add bastard again for good measure!
Its husbands birthday tomorrow so I have made a cake. Not quite as big a cake as planned, but a cake nonetheless. As I was putting the cake tin in the oven I accidentally touched the red hot rack. The instant reaction is to withdraw your hand quickly, which I did, dropping the cake tin as I did. Before I could yell "bluddy hell thats hot" bastard had his tongue around the falling mixture, lapping up as much as he could before the 3 second rule could take effect. I think I might already have said I despair, but I really do....
My lounge floor, which I have cleared and hoovered, is now littered with bits of (madly) torn up paper, formerly flat details and an electoral roll letter left on the side table, and a plastic lidl carrier bag, stolen from the kitchen. Anyone want a manic, shit rolling, seemingly untrainable dog?
Thursday 1 September 2016
Day care relief
Thursday is doggie day care day. It is a day for me to be able to shop, and leave the front door open whilst I bring said shopping into the house. It also means I can leave the bags on the floor without them being raided by the dog who is convinced he is starving, all the time. He hurls himself into a bag, grabbing whatever his teeth clamp onto first, and high tails it off into the lounge as if he was an SAS operative home from a highly successful mission.
Before day care we had a system, dog was shut in the kitchen via the stairgate, husband brought the shopping in, handed it to me over the gate and I, in turn hefted it over another stairgate which shuts off the utility room. Oh, two stairgates I hear you say, how inconvenient. Actually its three, we have one at the foot of the stairs too, initially put there to allow the cat space for herself without the risk of being eaten alive. A Milo free zone is a precious commodity in this house!
Thursdays is now the only day my guinea pigs can go out into their run without being terrorised. Basterd dog runs round and round the run frantically gnawing at the bars whilst my poor piggies cower in terror under their plant pots. My last dog ignored them completely, so they lived a life of luxury, with free reign of the garden and coming and going as they pleased. Poor things are now locked up most of the time.
Man, he's a terror, still! He vandalises the house and furniture, digs up the grass, jumps up at the kitchen sides, still tries to eat shoes, bags, coats, if its left out its fair game. He has decided he has learned enough commands for his liking, and any negative ones certainly dont apply to him. He is 2yrs old next month and shows no signs of calming down, or behaving!
Would we do it again? Nope. Do we wish we hadn't had him? Often! Do we love him? Unconditionally, daft sods that we are!
Before day care we had a system, dog was shut in the kitchen via the stairgate, husband brought the shopping in, handed it to me over the gate and I, in turn hefted it over another stairgate which shuts off the utility room. Oh, two stairgates I hear you say, how inconvenient. Actually its three, we have one at the foot of the stairs too, initially put there to allow the cat space for herself without the risk of being eaten alive. A Milo free zone is a precious commodity in this house!
Thursdays is now the only day my guinea pigs can go out into their run without being terrorised. Basterd dog runs round and round the run frantically gnawing at the bars whilst my poor piggies cower in terror under their plant pots. My last dog ignored them completely, so they lived a life of luxury, with free reign of the garden and coming and going as they pleased. Poor things are now locked up most of the time.
Man, he's a terror, still! He vandalises the house and furniture, digs up the grass, jumps up at the kitchen sides, still tries to eat shoes, bags, coats, if its left out its fair game. He has decided he has learned enough commands for his liking, and any negative ones certainly dont apply to him. He is 2yrs old next month and shows no signs of calming down, or behaving!
Would we do it again? Nope. Do we wish we hadn't had him? Often! Do we love him? Unconditionally, daft sods that we are!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)