Friday, March 19, 2010

As usually happens, once you have initials after your name you are no longer a peon and someone thinks you should be someone.

Shortly after passing my CMA certification exam, the lab manager felt I was wasting my time just drawing blood all day. She transferred me to the main lab, in the basement, where I occasionally drew blood, but mostly was the slave child to the lab techs. It wouldn’t have been too bad, but I missed my patients. If there was a single reason why I was drawn to the medical field it was to work with the public. I also was really not keen on working in the basement. Oh my gosh, with all the remodeling and the new building of clinics around here, you can not believe how old and rundown the lab was back then. The worst part was probably that the ceilings were so low, and for short little me to say that, they had to be low.

Dan and I finally had come to an agreement that it was time to have another baby. Nick was three years old, and I desperately did not want him to be any only child. I had insurance and was accruing sick time.

I lose track of time, but I know I was at least a few months pregnant when I managed to wheedle my way into the lab at the clinic in Tomahawk. The lab manager knew I was unhappy in my current position, so she asked, “What would make you happy?”

I answered pointblank, “Working in Tomahawk.” She said she would see what she could do. A few weeks later, I was working in the lab at the clinic in Tomahawk.

That was pretty sweet. Our little lab was right next to the x-ray department, and the other CMA I worked with, Sue, and I got along great with the x-ray techs. Being so close to home was an added perk. It wasn’t perfect (have I yet to find the perfect job?), but I was satisfied with where I was at.

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