Last Friday, I started my training on the software that I’m to use to transcribe with, and Saturday, I trained on the software I’ll use to edit speech recognition documents. The hospital(s) I’ll be working on are associated with the University of Southern California, and they are not large hospitals. Doesn’t matter. In my speckled, 26+year career as a medical transcriptionist, I’ve done everything except pathology and autopsies. I’ve worked in every other specialty except pathology at one point or another. (I don’t do ophthalmology well, but then who does?) I have the ear, the requisite skills, and I am the Google Queen. It’s just a matter of learning the transcription software and building the habit patterns that go with the various key combinations you use to operate it, and learning the individual peculiarities of the various dictators, their pet phrases, and speech patterns.
I didn’t actually do any transcription work until Sunday, and then I was limited to 5 reports “so as not to overwhelm QA” I asked if it would be OK for me to do a couple of reports a night between Sunday and Friday just so I could l learn the transcription software, and was told that was OK. (“We need all the help we can get!” — which is good to know.) The only day I actually did any work was Thursday.
At the same time I was getting this transcription job, my BFF was getting a job as a greeter in a “Christian book store” which is a job (greeter) that is right up her alley. She is such a people person. The store where she works sells religious oriented books and tchotchkes, as well as home-schooling materials (probably Christian oriented as well) and CDs of “praise music” (no, thank you.) It’s all that evangelical protestant stuff. My BFF and I agree to differ on matters of religion.
I got a new appointment with the VA for a well-check to replace the one I had to cancel. I’ve also got an order to get an x-ray of my feet and will have an appointment with podiatry to see why my feet hurt all the time. I suspect I have plantar fasciitis, (my mom also has it), which is treated with shoe orthotics and exercises. The fact that I go shoeless is going to be deplored, no doubt, and I will resist wearing shoes in the house. The white cat stays underfoot constantly, and bare feet react more quickly to being about to step on a cat than shod feet do. The fact that I could severely hurt him if I should step on him is very disturbing, to the point that I’d rather have sore feet than wear shoes. At his age (15), any injury could be problematic and treating it could be even more so. We’ll see what develops.
I am so woefully behind in my blog reading. I should take the time to catch up. I just haven’t. My apologies, but life has been rather fraught of late.
My mom has been doing OK mostly because she’s been keeping busy, calling Medicare, calling Social Security and the insurance, and the pension people. Of course, she can’t really deal with Social Security or the legal issues until she gets copies of the death certificate, but she should be getting them next week. The funeral home was supposed to get that ball rolling. The satellite TV service is in my dad’s name. She’s got to cancel that account and open a new account in her name. There’s my dad’s pension and health insurance he got through his former employer to deal with. He had bank accounts that have to be closed, and I think you need the death certificate for that. Once she has copies of the death certificate, she has to submit his will for probate, and make a new will herself. Anyway, she’s going to be untangling him from her life for weeks yet.
She’s already been making noises about going on a cleaning spree. A lot of their en suite was given over to things for taking care of my dad’s various needs, like colostomy supplies, creams and ointments for this and that, and generally stuff that is no longer needed. Then there’s his clothes and personal effects that must be dealt with. I’ve already told her I’d be happy to help out — any days but Friday, Saturday, and Sunday!
I found out the couple with the three little boys who live in the apartment across from me are moving because they need more room. Their oldest boy is about 4 years old and the youngest is about a year and a half. They’re all three as cute as they can be. They’re moving to a house, because they need a yard for their dog. (Why people would want to get a dog that size and coop it up in an apartment . . . .) I’ll be sorry to see them go. They’re nice people. It’ll be my luck that college kids will move in and throw loud parties on the weekends when I’m trying to work. But then again, I might luck out. We’ll see.
I’ve parked under this tree at the edge of our side of the parking lot for months now. Suddenly, in the past week, my car is all over bird poop. Thursday I was out and about getting my flu shot and running some errands, and I took the opportunity to go to the car wash to get it washed off. It was unbelievable. I’d bet the grackles are the culprits.
We have a big hurdle looming next month. November 16th would have been my folks’ 68th wedding anniversary. Once we’ve gotten past that, there’ll be the holidays to be gotten through, but we’ll make it the way we’ve made it so far. One day at a time.