Here's the start of my live coverage for today's road trip with the PPPC to Binghamton. (Pics won't be included because the Blogger Gremlins are acting up.) This could prove interesting, because I was out sick from work yesterday and my symptoms have not abated. But I've got a prescription for what ails me and I'm medicated. I'm hoping to sleep a lot in the bus, though it does have an on-board rest room so that's one potential crisis averted.

So here's hoping for all good news today. Let's go, Phantoms, 'cause tonight, the Phan Club's coming to cheer you on! :o)

Edit: Well, as you can see, there was a problem with the live posting. I couldn't get any pics to post. GRRRR... oh, well. Hopefully the issue with posting of photos via mobile phone will be straightened out. This is two times in a row that I've run into error messages when I've tried it.

So I have an appointment in the making for 3/21 at 2 PM, to talk to that other department manager about the file clerk position.

But she thinks I'm way overqualified.

HERE WE GO AGAIN.

I'm either overqualified, underqualified, have too much of the wrong kind of experience, or not enough of the right kind of experience.

And when it's a race to get another job in the health system ASAP before I get pushed out of this one, which could happen in a month's time because of all the sh-t that's gone on behind my back, I don't feel like I have time to waste.

If the Witches of Eastwick win the race, not only will I be out of a job, but there'll be a black mark next to my name, something I've *never* had in my life. Ever. Which might preclude my getting a transfer or staying in the health system.

I've had a migraine for thr past five hours. If I don't get carsick on the bus ride home, it'll be a miracle.

P.S. Don't worry. I never, EVER have accessed my blog from the work computer, not even once. That's all I would need would be to give the vermin THAT ammunition, of this web address in my internet history. I'm posting on my lunch hour from my cell phone, which has web access.

OK, I have officially had it with the human race.

First of all, last night I got home from a Phan Club board meeting to a call from my bank, regarding my check card. I called the 800 number, only to find that law enforcement and the FBI provided the bank with a set of card numbers that'd been part of a security breach and might have been stolen. My card fit that bill, though there's been no untoward activity relatetd to it. So I ordered a new card, which should arrive in the next several days, and provided a new PIN number to go with it. Meanwhile, the bank will scrutinize any activity that comes from said card.

So that's all a bad thing in some ways, a neutral thing in other ways, and a reminder that some people are dishonest and rotten.

How nice to have that sort of reminder the night before I came in to work today, and found out that the wheels of the Coworker Spite Machine have never really stopped turning. There is an all-out campaign, by the same three people who've driven out eight previous people in my position, to ruin my name. They've apparently been going out of their way to write to my boss's boss about everything -- if I make a mistake, even a trivial one, they email her. If THEY mess something up, and there's no precise way to prove that it was one of them and not me that caused the problem, they send an email that I did it.

So far, my boss has been sticking up for me in the face of this. However, SHE is on the verge of transferring out. God only knows who'd replace her or whether they'd join in the scapegoating... or whether they'd have their own candidate that they would like to get into the health system, so creating an opening at my position would suit their needs just fine.

So I've put my name in for another position at Neighborhood Hospital, the one where our Secondary Clinic is located. It pays a few dollars an hour less but I don't care. What's the point of earning more and spending it on TUMS and blood pressure pills? I don't need this BS. I will leave the Primary Rheumatology Practice to the Gang of Three and find myself a place in the health system that's not filled with spite.

If you see this post reasonably soon after it's written, send some prayers my way. I could find out as soon as the next few days whether this will pan out. I hope it does, because I need to get the bleep away from these people. Sooner rather than later, for my health and theirs ('cause I have the temptation to throttle some of them right now, thinking about how hard they've worked to spite me behind my back, while being friendly to my face).

I really, really have the temptation to just say "People S*CK" and go home *cough cough* "sick" right now. I honestly do. But I won't. I'm not going to screw my boss over like that, since we're already shortstaffed today.

So much for doing Live Coverage of Bunco night! It turned out to be a protracted dice game, during which I was interpreting non-stop for Joe J. That made it impossible to stop and take a pic or post. It was fun, though, and I met a bunch of new Deaf and hearing people.

To my great delight, one of those people is the widow of my late and much-missed first ASL instructor, Jack M. I knew his son was one of the coordinators of Bunco night, and I'd intended to approach him after the event was over to give him my regards. But one aspect of Bunco Night was moving from table to table, and one lady at the final table we sat at indicated Jack's son on stage and identified herself as the mother of the person who coordinated Bunco Night. I was able to give both her and her son my regards for how much I had enjoyed starting to learn ASL with Jack as my instructor.

(Found in my draft copies. Publishing as is.)

Last night's event was at the Elks Lodge in Brigantine, NJ (just outside Atlantic City), but the actual event was a meeting of the Sons of Italy chapter in Brigantine. My uncle Pat, as well as my Aunt Rita and their son/my first cousin Joe, were and are strongly involved in both groups. I don't know how often it is that the two groups join forces like this. But, given the depth of the involvement that Uncle Pat, in particular, had with both groups, I can't say I'm surprised that they worked together last night in this event that honored him.

You know, I'd been aware for a long time that Uncle Pat did a tremendous amount of work for the community, and commanded a great deal of respect. But he was never the kind of person who sought personal fame or recognition for things he did.

So when my parents and Mark and I went to Brigantine to see Aunt Rita, as well as Joe and his wife Chris, the day after Uncle Pat passed away last year, and I saw that flags at every official site on the island were at half-mast, my first thought was that he must have REALLY gone out of his way to downplay the number of things he did, even moreso than I'd realized.

It turned out that Aunt Rita was at Joe and Chris's house, so we headed there. And we proceeded to partake in the planning of the funeral Mass, as well as receiving the condolences of multiple friends and acquaintances who'd heard the news and came to pay respects.

I met so many people that day, I couldn't possibly list them all. But when one of the callers was Congressman LoBiondo of NJ, I thought again how I'd never REALLY realized the depth of Uncle Pat's involvement in civic affairs. I'd always known, and could have recited back to anyone who asked, "Yes, my uncle does a lot of work for the community and is very involved in politics", but I hadn't ever *really* stopped to analyze what that meant. It just WAS, kind of like the sky just IS blue and water just IS wet.

The flags on Brigantine stayed at half-mast right through the day of the funeral. At which point, we had a police escort from Brigantine all the way to the cemetary in Mays Landing. I was able to raise my head up out of my own personal cloud of grief, just enough to understand that there was a VERY large group of people who were grieving Pat's loss in their own way, not as a family member, but as a friend and colleague.

So when I found out that the Sons of Italy lodge to which he'd belonged had decided to change its name in his honor, I wasn't surprised. There are times when people can't help but acknowledge the work that someone else has done, and they NEED to find a way to pay their respects. That, I think, is the sentiment that led them to change their charter last night.

Several people spoke, including my ccousin Joe (who is currently the president of the Sons of Italy chapter). He said that when the family had first been approached with the idea that the lodge wanted to take on Pat's name, they politely declined. He wasn't about getting individual notice, but about teamwork, and they didn't believe he'd have wanted to be singled out in this way. So of course, the person who'd proposed the idea brought it up at a meeting when Joe couldn't be on hand to preside, and the motion passed resoundingly. :o)

Congressman LoBiondo was on hand and spoke. The Mayor of Brigantine and the Exalted Ruler of the Elks also took the microphone briefly. They all made a point of emphasizing how much Pat had meant to them personally, how hard he'd worked, and how much he's missed.

Then they had the unveiling ceremony of the lodge's new banner. It was done very nicely -- the old banner was on display, and under it was the new one with the new name on it. The old banner was lifted up and folded back to reveal the new one, which was then on display for the rest of the night.

It was very nice. Then the Sons of Italy had its installation of new officers, including Joe for another two-year stint as President. his wife Chris as first VP, and my Aunt Rita as the chair of the Sunshine committee (VERY good choice, if you ask me).

They also had a catered dinner and dance afterward... The food was outstanding and I liked the music, too. It was bittersweet to know that the reason for all these things happening was that we'd lost Uncle Pat last year. On the other hand, it's gratifying to know how highly regarded he STILL is by so many people.

We had one other significant event in the family yesterday, unfortunately. I know I posted some months ago about my elderly cousin Connie, who'd been diagnosed with renal failure but refused dialysis, as is her right. She passed away yesterday morning. I'd been told on Monday that she was fading fast, and that the doctors had given her about four more days. They were right. :o( Funeral arrangements are still pending, but I hope there's something at night so we can go.

Sigh. It's not easy to reconcile with the fact that the people who have Always Been There throughout my life are not always going to CONTINUE to be there. :o( I hope they're looking down and smiling when they see us, as we keep on keeping on.

Blogger's mobile feature had Gremlins tonight, so I couldn't post photos during the event. I'm about to find out if it's accepting text only posts, when I attempt to send this post as we head home on the AC expressway.

I'll post photos when I get home. It was a great night that honored a very deserving person, is what I'll say for now.

We're about to arrive in Brigantine for a ceremony to honor my late Uncle Pat. He was very involved with the Sons of Italy and the Elks. Now, a year after his passing, there's a ceremony at the Elks lodge, as the Sons of Italy lodge is changing its name to the Pat Campitelli lodge. I'll see if I can do some decent Live Coverage of the proceedings, for the family members who can't be there.

Never mind, WAY too busy for updates. More later, TTYL!

Well, it's time for another "live coverage" event. Tonight we are going to the Bunco Night at PSD (PA School for the Deaf), and I think it's going to be interesting enough to send out updates live.

However, if there's no convenient way to send out emails with text, then I'll be just sending out the plain pictures, and then add the captions when I come home. So if you see a bunch of unexplained photos on here between now and the time I get home from Bunco Night, that's why.

Just so you know -- there IS a method to my madness. As well as a madness to my method, but anyone who knows me already knows that. ;o)

BRRRR... this clinic is an ICE BOX.

I can't believe how ineffective the heating system has been over the past two days.

It's to the point where I've turned on the fluorescent lights that are under the cabinets, next to my desk. Normally, I leave them off because the light bothers my eyes.

But today, I have them on because at least they generate a nominal amount of heat. If the light annoys me, I have eyelids. But there's no similar "easy" solution to warding off the cold in here. So for now, the lights are on and they're staying on.

I feel sorry for our patients. Some of them are elderly and are sensitive to chills. If I'm freezing my tail off, how must THEY feel?

My manager has let me know that she has, in fact, checked into the phone activity records for both my telephone and that of my colleague, starting from a long time back until now.

I'm not sure what she meant by "a long time", and I didn't ask. But I asked if I was hallucinating about the imbalance in the number of calls I've been receiving, vs. the number of times I've heard my colleague's phone ring. (Under normal circumstances, the way our phones are set up, it *should* be a relatively even workload.)

Apparently, there is not merely a difference, but a VAST disparity in how many more calls I receive, and this is a pattern that has been in place over a prolonged period of time. She said that this report, plus the comparison in the number of phone messages that I take in a day vs. those taken by other people, is significant evidence that the system is being abused. (We use phone message tablets, which create a carbon copy of every message we take. Said tablets are kept on hand for several months once they've been completely used. Since we write the date on all our messages, it's a simple matter to review the exhausted message tablets and see how many messages are taken in a given day, and by whom.)

No %@*#&$ *wonder* I feel like I don't have the time to get anything done! And no wonder the temp SEEMS to have done so little of the paperwork on the days that I've spent at Secondary Rheumatology Site! Spending an inordinate amount of time taking phone call after phone call will definitely wreak havoc on a person's productivity.

My colleague might THINK that she's making me look inefficient by accidentally-on-purpose letting me handle the lion's share of the phone calls. She gets her tons of paperwork done more quickly than I do mine, because she has fewer interruptions. Or maybe she couldn't care less whether either of us looks more efficient, as long as she doesn't have to deal with the phone. Who the heck knows? I'm not going to pretend I can get between another person's ears and figure out what they're thinking.

All I know is that she probably has no idea that it IS possible to document what's been going on with the phones. And I think that the paper trail of what's been going on is significant enough that she's going to find out, sooner rather than later, that it's KNOWN that she has been abusing the system.

And I'm glad to know that I'm not being paranoid over what's been going on with the telephone, and there really WAS something amiss. I'd have felt guilty if I'd started seeing unfairness where none existed, but it turns out that I was correct.

Yesterday was a frustrating workday, to say the least.

I was originally slated to work at Secondary Rheumatology Clinic, the one I've mentioned before. It's the one that's at the Neighborhood Hospital a few block away, which Teaching Hospital bought some years back. Both that clinic, and the one where I normally work, are a part of the same Rheumatology Division.

Because Secondary Clinic has been short-staffed for the past several weeks, due to the resignation of one employee and the absence of another person due to maternity leave, individuals from the Primary Clinic where I work have been "loaned" out to them on some occasions.

Usually, it's been JM, the guy from our records room. Frequently, our manager (who is the manager of both clinics, until one is hired to take over at the primary clinic) is over there. In fact, in the past few weeks, she's been over there more often than at the Primary Clinic at the Teaching Hospital.

And in the past three weeks, I've been slated to work there on Thursdays and Fridays. Except for one thing: last week and the week before, my schedule got tweaked so that I only got to work at Secondary Clinic on Thursday, and went back to my regular job at Primary Clinic on Friday. Frankly, I prefer Secondary Clinic; it's a LOT less chaotic and there's much less chance of a person getting their head bitten off for not doing something EXACTLY as a particular doctor wanted it. It's nice to be able to work like a normal human being, and not worry about anyone going around behind your back trying to sabotage you somehow. (Did I ever mention that when I first started working at this position, I was forewarned by the manager to politely decline offers of help getting things done? Because the "help" was being offered, not for kindness's sake, but because then the "help"er could go around behind my back and say, 'She can't even do her work, I have to do it for her." That's just one example.)

Anyway, I reported to Secondary Clinic yesterday, in the belief that THIS week, in the absence of any instructions to the contrary, I was to work at Secondary Clinic on both Thursday and Friday. Well, surprise. That did, in fact, get changed at the last minute, but I never got notified that I'd be needed at Primary Clinic on Friday. Long story short, I did head over to Primary Clinic and unfortunately, that was just the first of multiple aggravations that cropped up yesterday.

When I have been assigned to Secondary Clinic, we borrow a Patient Services Rep (PSR) from Hematology/Oncology. When he's there, I *thought* he was supposed to do the same things I do. And I'm sure he does the things that comprise the biggest part of my day: taking phone calls, setting up appointments, and checking patients in and out. But there are other things I do, as well, and upon my arrival at Primary Clinic, I discovered that those things hadn't been so much as TOUCHED.

For one thing, I'm the person who calls the confirmations. I print up a list of patients who have an appointment in two days, and I call them all to remind them of the appointment. On Thursdays, normally I call confirmations for the appointments on Monday. Did YOU call Monday's confirmations last Thursday? Well, neither did anyone else, in my absence. So I started off Friday by rushing around like a maniac getting Monday's calls made. Color me non-happy about that.

I also found that there'd been a ton of incoming mail, another one of my responsibilities, that had been left unsorted, unopened, and undistributed in my absence. It was a real bite-my-tongue moment when I saw it there, because I thought, "What in HADES did they do in here yesterday? Why get someone to come in and not have them actually FILL IN for the absent party?" Well, whatever. I figured I'd work on getting the mail taken care of as soon as I finished calling the confirmations.

Wrong again. I got an email from my manager; one of the doctors had to change her schedule on a particular day in March, resulting in what's known as a "bump list". It means that I had to contact all those patients whose appointments were rescheduled, let them know of the change, and send a letter notifying them of the change.

The bump list wasn't that long, really. But it did involve making phone calls. And therein lay the rub. Because my fellow PSR at Primary Site chose yesterday to surreptitiously not take incoming phone calls. To explain what I mean: have you ever called a company and gotten a message "Our representatives are assisting other customers. Please continue to hold, and someone will be with you shortly"? That's a queue that your call is waiting in. We have that kind of setup for our phone system, and in order to receive calls from the queue to your phone, you have to enter some codes to log your phone in to the system.

Well, my phone rang off the [expletive omitted] hook yesterday afternoon. I mean it was CONSTANT. One call after another after another... I literally couldn't hang up without the phone ringing immediately with a new call. So I glanced over to the other PSR's end of the desk after about the fourth or fifth call in a row that I received without her telephone ringing even once.

Her phone was not logged in. I don't know HOW she thinks I wouldn't notice.

Rather than say something I'd regret, I just kept on working and waited to see how long it'd take for her to sign in. The answer is that she remained logged off from before 2 PM (when I return from my lunch hour) until about 3:45, fifteen minutes before it was time for her to leave.

During that time, I got more and more angry. And, of course, you know those calls I was supposed to be making for the bump list? I couldn't make them because I never stopped getting INCOMING calls all afternoon.

Did I mention that I didn't want to say something I'd regret? Rather than confront her and cause a permanent case of friction, I emailed the manager and asked if there was a polite way to indicate to someone that their phone is not signed into the system without coming off sounding snarky.

I figured I owed it to the manager to let her know that something's amiss. She stuck her neck out for me, hiring me without prior medical clinic experience, and then sticking up for me in the face of some of the doctors having psycho moments (as I've ranted about in past posts). So, to be as concise as possible, the manager is now aware that she needs to examine the phone records for both telephones, at which point she'll be able to see that there's been some underhanded nonsense going on.

I'm not going to start treating the other PSR as an enemy, particularly not now that she's at least nice to my face. But it will be a cold day in Hades before I sit back and ignore it when someone dumps work onto me that they're supposed to be sharing with me, and then compounds it by talking on her bleeping cell phone for personal call after personal call. To heck with THAT.

I should have been able to leave work yesterday at 5:00 PM, because when I work at Secondary Site my hours are from 8:30 to 5:00. But because I was stuck taking phone calls nonstop for the entire afternoon, I got none of the work I expected to do completed. That had to happen after the phones went on "service" at 5 PM, and I wound up not leaving until 5:50. That's nearly an hour of overtime that I'm not even going to get credit for, because we turned in time sheets Thursday morning, and I'd already filled it in as though I was leaving at the normal time on Friday.

Maybe if I mention this to the manager, that I worked that extra time, she'll let me fill in a different day this coming week as though I worked overtime, to make up for how late I wound up leaving on Friday.

Sorry if this post comes off as a total rant. But if you think I'm worked up over it NOW, you should have seen me last night. OOOOO. I was registering on the Richter scale when I got home from work. Poor Mark had to hear me raving about what a day it was.

It's unfortunate that we're able to get cell phone signals in the building where we work. I wish it was like the insurance company where I worked as a temp last year, where the cell phone signal was terrible and, in many parts of the building, the signal was nonexistent. That would keep certain people from using their cell phones to take personal calls for hours on end. Oh, well. Whatever.

I'm less enraged now, but I'm still ticked off and I'm more inclined than ever to stay in "watch my back at all times" mode. Sheeze. I hate having to look at everyone as though they're more likely to stab me in the back than be fair. But I just had an afternoon-long example of how willing people are to throw a coworker under the bus without thinking twice. If she wants to look out for number one to that degree, guess what? Two can play at that game. I don't intend to do anything even remotely like sabotage, because I still have to live with myself and my own conscience, but I'm going into "observe *everything* and take mental notes" mode. I'll just do my job the best I can, and I'll have my BS Detector up and running at all times.

What a shame it is that I even have to think like this. I wish I could just go in, do my freaking job, and go home without even once having to worry about what kind of crap someone else might pull. GRRRR.

So I guess we shouldn't park here if we're not picking up a takeout order? Is that what they're getting at? ;o)

He saw his shadow. I watched it live this morning on a PA cable channel Mark found. 6 more weeks of winter are on the way.

Crumple, crumple, crumple.

I'd wondered what the noise was. I knew the cats were making it, but it never dawned on me that they were doing anything particularly wrong. After all, they were playing in the vicinity of the stack of newspapers that are ready to be recycled.

Crumple, crumple, crumple.

Boy, whatever it is they're doing, they sure are engrossed in it.

Crumple, crumple, crumple. RI-I-I-I-IP.

OK, now whatever it was had probably gone too far. "I'm hearing noises I'm not supposed to BE hearing!", I called out. That's my version of "Don't make me come over there!", and the cats are well aware of it. The crumpling noises stopped.

Mark, however, DID get up to see what was going on. "Aw, for gosh sakes. They tore the bag!"

"What bag?", I asked.

It turns out that Mark went food shopping yesterday on his day off, and purchased two large bags of cat food. Unbeknownst to me, the bags were right next to the stack of newspapers. Captain and Stanley, the mighty cat-food-bag hunters, had struck again. I suppose I should have been mad, but actually I thought it was pretty funny. Boy, what a pair of gluttons... They have more than enough food in their bowls, yet they'll still go after the mother lode and rip open a cat food bag if they're given half an opportunity. Spoiled pair of furballs.

Aw, for crying out loud! The Phantoms played SUCH a great game tonight, only to give up a late powerplay goal on a questionable penalty that tied the game at 1-1. We ended up losing 2-1 in overtime.

How aggravating. The team played SO well, and SO hard, from start to finish. It's cruddy if that penalty that cost us the powerplay goal turns out to be a mistake, as I suspect it was.

One GOOD thing from tonight's game is that I got to meet an online friend face to face for the first time. One of my fellow Maxime Ouellet fans (see my December 7, 2005 post if you don't know who Max is) drove up from DC with her friend for tonight's game. It was very nice to meet Tara and Ruth, and they're already planning to do this again for a Sunday game. That'll be easier for them, as our Sunday games begin and end earlier than our weeknight games.

Tomorrow, we're having our annual lunch at Strawbridge's restaurant, the Corinthian Room, in honor of our late friend Joan. Once upon a time, we used to meet for lunch there with her almost every Saturday. When she passed away, we started honoring her birthday by having lunch there on a Saturday, as close to her birthday on January 26 as we could.

This year will be the tenth time we've gathered to celebrate her birthday, and it's possible that it'll be the final time we're able to eat in this restaurant in its current incarnation. The company that now owns Strawbridge's will be converting the store to a Macy's sometime this year. Goodness only knows what will become of the Corinthian Room as a result of the changeover.

I do hope they keep the restaurant. Even though its menu has changed since the days when Strawbridge and Clothier was the last family-owned department store in the US, it's still a nice place to go for old times' sake. But the Strawbridge family sold the store to the May company (at which point, it was renamed "Strawbridge's"), and now it's changing again to a Macy's. Sigh. Some changes, I could do without, and this is one of them. I hope they don't murdalize what's left of the store as we knew it.

The view pulling into Pattison Avenue station. As you can see, I got the best seat in the house again. :o)

I haven't seen any new information yet regarding where Neil might sign next.

Heck, if it's going to take any length of time for him to hook up with a team, IMO he might as well come home. I'm sure his family and friends in Canada and the US will be more than happy to see him. And goodness knows if he showed up in the press box at a Phantoms home game, he'd be swamped by people wanting to greet him.

I remember well what happened the last time he made an appearance at the Spectrum after a long time away. It was during the playoffs of 1999, the season that he spent in Grand Rapids. The Griffins missed the playoffs that year, so he came back to Philly to be our third goaltender. I was there the first time he showed up in Bullies after a game. I don't know when I've seen a crowd that big gather that fast. EVERYone wanted to say hello. I got a big kick out of seeing that... he'd had such a rough season in Grand Rapids, that I figured it'd be a big morale boost to be swarmed by fans. Well, I hope it was, anyway! And I would be delighted to witness another response like that from fans at the Spectrum now.

In any case, all I can do is keep an eye open for any information that might crop up. Thank goodness for the internet and the ability to look these things up... I can't imagine going back to life without being online!

I mentioned the other day that the Rheumatology Division consists of clinics that are at two sites. The primary site is the one that's across the street from the main hospital that gives the Health System where I work its name. But there's another hospital, which was taken over by the Health System several years ago, a few blocks away. While the one where I work is a teaching hospital that's part of a large university, the nearby hospital where the other Rheumatology Clinic is located is more of a neighborhood hospital.

The other site has been short-staffed for a month or two now, between the fact that their nurse resigned and one of their Patient Service Representatives (the same job I do) is out on maternity leave.

Today, I was on loan to the Other Site to help compensate for the lack of staffing. Originally, I was to be there every Thursday and Friday, starting today, for the next three or four weeks. But since the Other Site's clinic has no patients tomorrow or next Friday, I won't be going over there on those days.

I have news for you -- if the PSR who's on maternity leave opts not to return to work, I would like to apply for the job. The Other Site is a lot less hectic, and from what I've heard on every count, THEIR doctors don't have hair-trigger tempers like most of ours do. They're actually understanding if someone makes a mistake, rather than jumping all over them and/or going around behind their back broadcasting how incompetent they think the person is.

We'll see. For now, I'll just do my best to make a great impression on the days when I'm on loan to Other Site. After that, what happens, happens.

The very front seat in the Broad Street Subway train is my favorite. It's the Best Seat in the House, in my book.