Christopher Calhoun
12-31-2019, 10:24 AM
I’ve been in deep thought lately, I don’t know why. Maybe I want more out of life or maybe I want money to fall from the sky. Perhaps both. I want to work for myself. I will work for myself. I don’t know how yet, but I will. Anyway, I digress.
This discussion has been discussed at length but, it seems more and more, time and again instances of people pussing out pop up. Am I a bad motherf***ker? I don’t know. I’m working on trying to be.
Perhaps at 37-38 (in February) years old I’m just turning into a crotchety old man, tired of the amount of dumb in the world. What do I think the problem is?
Pride. Real pride. There is a severe lack of real pride in world. Maybe it’s relegated to the US. Nobody is proud to be intelligent any longer. I read what are supposed to be considered “scholarly articles” online with grammatical errors. It is literally in style now to be helpless and whiny and feign offense or trauma at something that either has at best a negligible effect or no effect at all. I meet scores of people daily. I work at an ALS clinic and I see people who have ALS who REFUSE the help of their spouse or loved ones, though they often have no choice physically. Then we see people where “oh gosh, a lady jumped out of a ferry, it’s traumatic!”
Lack of pride in being strong and capable is running rampant though as well. “Run? What for? 100oz of water? I only drink 6-8 ounces or I’d have to pee all the time.”
At work, we are working on verbiage to our patients that they can get used to hearing for when they’re late, have completely missed their appointment time, and cannot be fit into the schedule. My boss’s response to that? Well, we have to try our best to see every patient. We do, unless their provider literally has zero time to spare to do it. You cannot sacrifice the many for the WANTS of the singular. A gentleman was “offended” yesterday because he was 25 minutes late (so his actually missed the entirety of his appointment) and had somewhere to be and wanted to be seen right the second he walked up. He also wanted his parking validated because he was in a hurry. So, I told him he wasn’t going to be seen immediately but I can see if there are any openings. He said unless he’s seen in the next ten minutes, he’d take his care elsewhere. What did I do? I gave him the number to the office of medical records along with parking validation with a straight look on my face and repeated he won’t be seen in the time he is requesting.
He was the age of people that I grew up looking up to for being hard. You know the ones, serving in maybe two or even three combat theaters, not giving a rat’s ass about what was going on. My grandfather was like that, he just didn’t give a crap because he’d seen it all. He was hard. I saw my grandfather cry a total of three times in my life. All, three days in a row after my grandmother passed away. You know what he did though? He kept going. He kept busy. He didn’t make excuses. Neither does my dad who has cancer, neuropathy in his feet, a deteriorating disk or two in his spine, and shingles. But dad gets up, goes to work, has a good time and comes home and doesn’t complain, like I’m doing right now. (Laughs).
Nobody is hard anymore. And it seems they don’t want to be. I want to be. God help me if I turn into a snowflake looking for handouts. Somebody please red dot me in the face if I do!
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
This discussion has been discussed at length but, it seems more and more, time and again instances of people pussing out pop up. Am I a bad motherf***ker? I don’t know. I’m working on trying to be.
Perhaps at 37-38 (in February) years old I’m just turning into a crotchety old man, tired of the amount of dumb in the world. What do I think the problem is?
Pride. Real pride. There is a severe lack of real pride in world. Maybe it’s relegated to the US. Nobody is proud to be intelligent any longer. I read what are supposed to be considered “scholarly articles” online with grammatical errors. It is literally in style now to be helpless and whiny and feign offense or trauma at something that either has at best a negligible effect or no effect at all. I meet scores of people daily. I work at an ALS clinic and I see people who have ALS who REFUSE the help of their spouse or loved ones, though they often have no choice physically. Then we see people where “oh gosh, a lady jumped out of a ferry, it’s traumatic!”
Lack of pride in being strong and capable is running rampant though as well. “Run? What for? 100oz of water? I only drink 6-8 ounces or I’d have to pee all the time.”
At work, we are working on verbiage to our patients that they can get used to hearing for when they’re late, have completely missed their appointment time, and cannot be fit into the schedule. My boss’s response to that? Well, we have to try our best to see every patient. We do, unless their provider literally has zero time to spare to do it. You cannot sacrifice the many for the WANTS of the singular. A gentleman was “offended” yesterday because he was 25 minutes late (so his actually missed the entirety of his appointment) and had somewhere to be and wanted to be seen right the second he walked up. He also wanted his parking validated because he was in a hurry. So, I told him he wasn’t going to be seen immediately but I can see if there are any openings. He said unless he’s seen in the next ten minutes, he’d take his care elsewhere. What did I do? I gave him the number to the office of medical records along with parking validation with a straight look on my face and repeated he won’t be seen in the time he is requesting.
He was the age of people that I grew up looking up to for being hard. You know the ones, serving in maybe two or even three combat theaters, not giving a rat’s ass about what was going on. My grandfather was like that, he just didn’t give a crap because he’d seen it all. He was hard. I saw my grandfather cry a total of three times in my life. All, three days in a row after my grandmother passed away. You know what he did though? He kept going. He kept busy. He didn’t make excuses. Neither does my dad who has cancer, neuropathy in his feet, a deteriorating disk or two in his spine, and shingles. But dad gets up, goes to work, has a good time and comes home and doesn’t complain, like I’m doing right now. (Laughs).
Nobody is hard anymore. And it seems they don’t want to be. I want to be. God help me if I turn into a snowflake looking for handouts. Somebody please red dot me in the face if I do!
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk