Bathing Suits and abject fear

Going to the beach for spring break.

It is the classic vacation, revered by young and old alike. The weather in Ft Myers should be perfect! Grab my sandals, my sunscreen, my shorts (eek!) and t-shirts (yikes), throw on my bathing suit...

GGGGGGGGGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

Dear Lord, how could this happen? I leave in 2 weeks? I have to put on a bathing suit in 2 weeks????? OK, clearly this has not been well thought out. Could we, perhaps, look at an Alaskan vacation? At the very least, I hear London is persistently rainy in April, requiring long coats of the trench variety. But really-sunshine? heat? tanning? What was I thinking?

First, the swimsuit I own has seen a couple seasons. That means at any moment, there could be an errant strand of Lycra which, with one false move, could spring loose and cause a serious wardrobe malfunction. Those fibers were designed to hold several things in places to which gravity has long denied them orientation. One frightening loss of structural integrity could prove hazardous to bystanders.

Second, my bathing suit is black and white. Stray just a bit too far from shore and harpoons become a significant threat. Short of finding a bathing cap (and really, who wears those?) with a 5-foot safely flag attached, I could easily be mistaken for Shamu's much younger, curvier, but no less buoyant, sister. Nope, black and white will not do.

Lastly, my bathing suit lacks fabric. This season, I am opting for the height of new fashion. No slave to the ugly, skimpy, way too tacky styles--I am opting for a groundbreaking fashion statement! No more will I bow to the voyeuristic whims of the Budweiser-slugging, taco-belching demographic whose lecherous fixation feeds on the insecurities of women in lounge chairs. No more will I worry about the extreme exposition of skin and areas better left to the imagination than to the harsh UV rays of the sun.

This year, I am committed to the resurrection of a more genteel era. A time when modesty was valued over enhancement. A time when alabaster skin was admired, and tanning was something which happened to those unfortunate enough to have to leave the shaded porch of the estate and its cool pitchers of iced tea, and venture into the fields in the heat of the day. Think Victorian Age. Think early 1900's. I am in search of the perfect combination of jaunty nautical stripes (vertical, of course) and full ankle to neck coverage. I want layers! Long bloomers, full sleeves, pinafores! And no flimsy fabric for me. Lets go for a full control jersey knit, or perhaps a nice summer-weight worsted wool. Sure, if I venture into the water the very weight of my bathing costume would likely drag me down like a stone, but that is a small price to pay for trend-setting modesty, don't you think?

company morale

I saw one of those funny, sarcastic posters once: "The beatings will continue until morale improves." It made me smile. Still does. But over the course of several months I relate more to that thought than I care to. And today it has me pondering some things.

I work in a good sized medical office. I have some fantastic, intelligent, devoted co-workers. These are people who would, and frequently have, stepped in to help at times of heavy illness or patient load, and willingly help out co-workers who need schedule changes. They are conscientous, and they understand that for the office to run smoothly, it must be staffed adequately. I am surrounded by good people, from the docs to the nurses to the patient service reps. I firmly believe that I work in one of the best places available, so I don't want to sound like I'm bitching.

Except I AM bitching.

Many of us are feeling a little beaten down. maybe a lot beaten down. We all feel the blow when someone calls off and goes unreplaced. When we are in the midst of a boom of maternity leaves (God bless all those prolific mommies!), and staffing is already spread thin, the hit is even harder. Patient care and communication is negatively affected when we're working short. The whole office suffers, tensions run high, and morale takes a dive. Today was one of those nose dives. straight down. from 30,000 feet. And that kind of atmosphere is not enjoyable.

We all understand that emergencies arise, kid and adults get sick, life situations require some time for recovery; in short: shit happens. We've all been there--we get that. But it's harder to summon up that understanding for the repeat offenders, the chronically tardy, the perpetually absent. You know when your shift starts--be there at that time, not 30 minutes later. Unless something serious befalls you after you leave your house, it is NEVER OK to call in after your shift has started to say you won't be showing up. And it is simple and necessary courtesy to try to find a replacement for yourself when you can't be there--it shows respect for your coworkers and for the practice as a whole. Try to understand: no matter how much your co-workers may like you, we don't appreciate being dumped on over and over again. It gets old, it gets tiring, and we get pretty beaten up.