I have not always been this way.  I have not always been confident and brave enough to share experiences and perspectives that are somewhat sensible.  It took me awhile to get to this place, and it has taken me by the month, wee, day, hour, minute, and second to keep my assertive self in check.  

Sometimes I find myself slipping back into that frustrated version of myself. The one who used to get nudged over smaller ant-sized things. Situations that would not matter in five days or less. But it takes practice to be able to learn people, to be able to appreciate a different perspective.

My wise not-so-old mentor once told me that people are very similar to laboratory instrumentation, and that theory has stuck with me to this day. Like lab analyzers (aka the big machines that run tests on your blood, urine, stool, and other bodily fluids) require more calibration and attention while others are self-sufficient, run their own QC internally, and file their own reports. Some lab instrumentation requires heavy maintenance, constantly getting clogged or gunked up with remnants from the past (aka old blood or urine).

Dear Laboratory,

You Are Sexy and You Know It

When people speak “lab,” many people have no idea what the hell is going on.

And so now is the time in my blog where I take this as an opportunity to share with you the ongoings of a hospital laboratory, and the true activity of clinical laboratory scientists.  

First thing – we cannot get enough of people calling us laboratorians.  Because, come on, who would not love that title?  Bonus points if you can swing “scientists” in a conversation piece or nod to us, we will fall at your feet no problem.  Because you have aptly nabbed the accurate (and precise) definition of our mysterious profession.  Note that people only call us laboratorians and scientists on solar eclipses where whales are also floating in the sky, but we take it when we can get it.  Oftentimes we answer to hey-lab-person (all one word, mind you), lab rat (great aunt of Pizza Rat), labbie (this one does not bother me, but it feels like I am supposed to shoot a basketball or throw a baseball after hearing it), “that person that draws my blood whenever I am required to endure that painful activity.”

While we are on the topic, let us have a moment of silence for my fellow Warriors with the Needles. Phlebotomists – the word I always have to use spellcheck on, the vampires of the hospitals, the people who are always short-staffed but damn if they do not show up and make it happen.  Phlebotomy is a fine art.  A love language that creates so much distress and anxiety, yet makes a strange and deep connection. Always a good conversation with that role.  Without phlebotomy, medicine would be in a deep ditch of disappointment as there would be no way to extract the fluids needed to diagnose your ailments.  

Some of you can relate with me on being a phleb in the middle of drawing a cancer patient who is a super tough stick, your nose itching or hair falling in your face, sweat suddenly showing up in awkward and inconvenient places. You are down on one knee filling up ten tubes of blood on this kind person who has been stuck over twenty times that week and please help us if we miss this time because they need another bruise like they need a hole in the head, and hopefully these results will help them figure out a way to feel better if not even a little bit.  And you nail the stick, and you also landed a meaningful conversation about someone who is living a life full of uncertainty, fear, and who can even imagine what else.  

A very tiny percentage of you are nodding your heads in full swing right now because you understand this event down to the second.  

Did You Say Lobotomy?

If I am being real with you, which I normally am but only wanted to say that for the hell of it, phlebotomists are an underpaid, under-recognized, barely-supported group of workers I have come across, and I have worked in a variety of professions in my short yet fulfilling life.  They get skipped over a lot – please help them if you are able to.

The Song of the Laboratory

Fun fact – only a small percentage of clinical laboratory scientists draw blood – I would wager a guess of 10% or less do the phlebotomy thing.  Phlebotomists land the sticks, they are the bomb.  

The laboratory is a forest of drains, cords, and songs.  The decibel level is often times questionable, sometimes you can find instruments hidden in cabinets if space is tight, thus you can sometimes find laboratorians hidden in refrigerators or in stock shelves, the world is your oyster.  We put on the labcoat, we become superhuman.  That is all it takes, and we rock it.  We make minimal mistakes, we are on our game, and we care.  It is that simple.  

We really do not want to answer the phone, but we will never ignore it, and we will always be helpful when a question comes our way, because we know things, and we want you to know that we know things, but mostly we want to help.  We just want to help, so please let us, and you will not be led astray.

Lab instruments are our domesticated animals.  We, as scientists, have trained the instruments, learned the instruments, loved the instruments.  We have studied their habits, dissected (and sometimes rebuilt) them, fed them, bathed them (and sometimes electrocuted them on accident), dare say we have pressed their buttons, have inspected their undercarriage, have coaxed them into making terrible decisions via peer pressure (Yes, please rotate the wheel, even though I know a tube is jammed in there), we have scolded them, displayed our disappointment, we have neglected, we have dismembered, we have prayed for a successful initiation, we have sold our souls for a final solution to their wreckage.  We have lived lab, and oh we have loved it.  

Hate On Me

Medical laboratory scientists are also some of the most underpaid, under-recognized, misunderstood group of folk I have ever met.  This pain is sometimes self-inflicted as they tend to stay in the lab, not branching out and mingling with the other heroes of the hospitals, sharing their stories and offering their perspectives.  However, the dearth of attention is a real thing, and it can lead to a side-effect known as festering and burnout.  It is no one’s fault.  Everyone in healthcare is burnt out, and I was one of the few who was able to take a back seat for a while.  And I am grateful for that.  And guilty for that.  Now is that the fourth stage of grief?  Guilt?  Because that is kind of how I am feeling at this point in time. 

**Note, the first part of this entry was an homage to the medical laboratory science profession. The remainder of this blog is dedicated to my journey as a Dinosaur Supervisor.

**Also note, Dinosaur Supervisor is an actual line in the credits of Jurassic Park. If you were the person in this role, you have landed the ultimate gig. Search no longer.

**Triple note, I am a velociraptor manager, but I deal with two to four of them at a time, depending on who is in the mood, and I have a fierce handle on the situation, or at least I think I do. I know nothing, John Snow.

Corporate Corpse Check-In
Current Mood:  Guilty

For some reason, I NOW (current day is 8/24/22) feel like after leaving my leadership position, I now feel guilty for stepping out.  This came out of my typing fingers at this very moment.  I really have not been thinking or feeling guilty much (or not as much as I thought, I guess), and I now at this very moment feel guilty.  Weird.  

Help, Not Just Anybody

If I had to throw something out there, I would say that it feels like I am not helping people as much as I used to.  

Helping others is a part of life I crave on the regular.  Helping people is my jam.  I am the person who is telling people as I am holding the door for them that it is my part-time job.  Freaking nerd.

I am the person picking up whatever it is you dropped even if it seemed like it was miles away and not part of my life at all.  I just eat that up.  It is absolutely thrilling to assist someone with a task and create a positive outcome.  Even if it is a mere sentence.  

Getting Crazy With The Cheeze-Whiz

My grandmother and I have a hobby in common – we try to compliment someone daily.  Many people do this, probably everyone compliments someone daily. (Wait…I am being told my expectations are too high….standby for another update).  Whether it be their shoes, their hair, their name, their child’s names (people’s names are awesome to discover and also give you a peek into their world), their ideas, their perspective, their take on a serious topic, I like to go nuts with it every now and then with the questions and inquiries. I ask a ton of questions.  Being curious has never let me down.  

By complimenting someone everyday, you see their reaction, and you understand that it revs the positivity up a notch. Sometimes I will send a thank you note at work, and people approach me verbally and say thank you and how it made them feel. People who prefer to be in quiet and non-confrontation, knocking down my door to tell me how that gave them a dose of energy. So cool to experience. Try the compliment thing out, you will not be disappointed.

Listening to: Lucius – On the Run (These ladies are dynamite.)

I Am Full of S#!t Most of the Time.

Feedback has propelled me forward, that is, if people are brave enough to give it to me straight. Rarely people ever do. My mother has the best tactic, and I am still not sure exactly what it is, but I know that when she tells me how I am being perceived, it makes me contemplate whether or not I want to take that direction again, and I am not salty about it, even though I may act that way in the moment. The truth hurts, and we all know it, but by opening ourselves up to the real deal, you can usually find more ways to be content with life since you start to understand your own ways better.

Small bits of commentary and criticism have come my way, and the most impactful ones tend to be simple. This one time, a woman I deeply admire, said to me, “You are a trailblazer.” And that is all I needed to hear before I sped down the Superhighway of Thought. It opened up another door for me, to hear a word like that from a person who I have tried to emulate (hell, the person who told me the importance of emulation). In a good way, obviously. My fearless mentor once told me that it was cool finding out I was an alien like the few others out there, like him. It made sense. I have since started to identify with people and become aware of my superstrengths.

Supa-Dupa Fly

I suggest we all do the same and become more aware of our superpowers. Power is a bitch to harness, and it can really mess with you. Own it, tame it, and become familiar with your thirst for it. If you know your triggers, then you can recalibrate yourself when you are about to make that same mistake the umpteenth time. It is also quite entertaining to see the look on someone’s face when you react completely different from your normal behaviors.

And might I also recommend that you give someone a small dose of Confidence tomorrow and each day thereafter. Make it tiny, but mighty. It makes a difference, and you will understand what I mean once you give it a go.

I am starting the below segment (for now) because it seems like fun and it might bring joy to your life. Back when I was a corporate droid, an executive leader was regularly asking us to perform this practice, and I do agree that this exercise is a step forward in the right direction. I would always think about doing the daily list of questions, and one time I found a journal I had bought in the gift shop in the center console of my car, and it only had one day of questions filled out, and the date of the next day, but no content. Super sad. Like a deflated inflatable guy – his name says it all. But hey, I got a blank journal out of it.

Do It On the Daily

What went well today – Listened to Mason Jennings, “Crown” twice today. The sick harmonica, the killer vocal inflections, the heartbreaking lyrics. Delish.

What did not go so well today – Too many bean dishes. Also could be incorporated into the “what went well today” section, but leans more towards this one.

What will I do differently tomorrow – Tomorrow I am going to propose a Spotify playlist swap with someone. Like a gift exchange but with music. Someone mentioned to me they needed more new music in their life, and I felt similar. I have been racking my brain on how to do this, and now I am heading straight for the CD swap. Send me that mixtape, please.