Nancy = Drug Mule

I recently discussed some funny things that have happened at my office, and awkward things that have been said – another doozy came out in a meeting this morning.

This was a small meeting with two very Senior Managers, two middle Managers and Myself.  We were discussing the legalities behind having Insurance policies issued in Canada printed in the United States – apparently an illegal endeavour.  One of the Big Cheeses’ then said “Its pretty much like smuggling large volumes of Coke into the country.”

So now Nancy is a drug mule.  Everyone laughed.  I think that was an unnecessarily hyperbolic reference and now slightly fear for my job security – and my freedom

The Doctor is In

I wouldn’t necessarily refer to myself as a know-it-all, but I’m close.  Once I have a bit of working knowledge about a subject, I tend carry on as if I’m an expert.  Sometimes, I think professionals really just don’t know what they’re talking about – they probably just slept their way to that fancy degree, right?

So for the past week I’ve had one of those nasty, barking coughs that makes people cringe.  Despite the noises coming from my chest, and the responses from the canines around me, I was actually feeling fine.  I figured it was just another one of those ‘Nuisance’ coughs like the one I had in September.  Mind you, I popped a few ribs out of place then, bit more than a nuisance if you ask me!  Yesterday was a different story though, I woke up with an incredibly sore throat, my chest felt tight, the cough was noticeably worse and I generally felt like I’d been backed over by a Mack Truck. 

 Being the paranoid Hypochondriac that I am, I marched off to the Walk In.  Similar to my last trip there the Doc did very little other than ask a few questions and check my temperature.  Ok – he did listen to my lungs, but that was it.  After this thorough exam, he pronounced that I didn’t have Strep (really, don’t you have to swab for that diagnosis?), and all the coughing was really just caused by my sinuses. Sure.  He gave me a script for a nasal spray and sent me packing.

I spent the rest of the day mocking his Doctoring abilities, joking every time I coughed  ‘My, don’t my sinuses sound terrible.’  I picked up my script on the way home, and continued mocking the solution with my roommates Eleanor and Tigger.  I used the spray right when I got home, and then again before bed.  I also rummaged through my cabinets and found the prescription strength cough syrup that had been prescribed to me in the fall.  More jokes ensued about the efficacy of nasal spray for a chest cold. 

Lo and behold, I wake up this morning and am actually markedly better.  My throat almost doesn’t hurt anymore, my cough is less frequent and less forceful when it arrives and that general feeling of crap I carted around with me yesterday is gone.  I’m like Eeyore without his cloud – still grumpy and confused, but generally better off. 

Alright, fine.  I guess the doctor was right.  Slow clap for him and his education.

This situation reminded me of the time a few years ago when I fell on some ice after stepping off a train.  I had landed pretty hard on my elbow, which proceeded to grow this rabbit’s foot looking abscess for a few hours, before just ballooning entirely.  Despite my parents urging to take me to the hospital, I was convinced I was suffering from nothing more than a severe contusion.  A contusion, for those that don’t know injury terms, is essentially a bruised muscle.  I don’t know about you, but I don’t think there is a whole lot of muscle on the tip of your elbow.

I carried on with my swollen, bruised and frankly gross looking elbow for a few weeks, telling everyone it was just badly contused.  The swelling had gone down the length of my arms and into my fingers, and the bruising had followed.  Back in my University days, I had a part time job as an Assistant Athletic Therapist, and have studied Anatomy quite a bit.  I was convinced it was fine, my circulation was good, I could rotate my wrist with ease and I could vibrate the attaching bones with no pain.  Definitely not broken.

So gross.

A little over two weeks after the accident, a caring co-worker suggested that I get it xrayed.  Ok, she threatened to call my Mother.  I marched off to St. Mike’s convinced I would be returning Victoriously shortly thereafter.  To nobody’s surprise except my own, it turns out my elbow was fractured.  I had managed to walk around with a broken arm for over TWO WEEKS!  I even went to Chicago for a long weekend during this time – no wonder it hurt so much on the plane.

The ER doctor was absolutely in hysterics.  He made me repeat my examination methods a few times, and while commending me for a job well done, would then laugh and remind me that I’m not a Doctor, and that my arm was actually broken.  I’m pretty sure they gave me the worlds largest and most unnecessary cast just so I would learn my lesson.

So a slight interest in Kinesiology and a part time job taping ankles doesn’t qualify me for diagnosing injuries?  Let’s go back to the St. Mike ER and ask that doctor what he thinks 🙂

Desk Jockey Antics

It happens to everyone – at least I think it does.  I’m referring to awkward or embarrassing moments at the office.  I often misinterpret things people say and start giggling. Apparently, this is very unprofessional; especially since it’s normally the use of words like ‘box’ or ‘tool’.

This morning I decided to send an instant message to a co-worker, discussing a rather strange meeting I had just had with a Superior.  My brain obviously crossed wires, and I accidentally sent the message about my Superior TO my superior.  Gulp.  The good news is, it was easy to play off as meaning to pass the message about some interoffice news to another co-worker.  However, if I had worded anything differently, this could have been very bad.  I also feel like a massive idiot right now.

 To improve my mood a bit, I started to think about the more humorous things that have happened around my office recently.

• My boss and I have a very good relationship and more often than not will spend our meetings discussing nothing but our personalities and social lives.  One day, I needed her to fill in a form for me due to a course I was taking.  She called me into her office, looking a bit embarrassed, and said she would need me to print out another form to fill in, as she had made a mistake.  In the relationship column, where you would expect to see Manager, she had written Mother!
• I was in one of those all day department meetings that consist solely of back to back meetings – you know the type.  These days involve a careful balance of boredom, feigning interest, and trying not to fall asleep.  I was in a particularly deep state of zoning out when I heard the presenter (a Senior Manager) say that he would “wear out the knees in all his pants” for us.  Umm.  What?  I carefully darted my eyes around the room, and not a soul had reacted.  How could that not mean something sexual?
• Having coworkers on Facebook is always a bit risky.  I try to keep this in mind when adding them as friends, and also when making any status updates or comments.  I recently went on a trip to Boston and had a slight tumble while I was there that resulted in a very large, very painful bruise on my bum (which Jillian has already referenced!).  I made a comment on Facebook about the injury, and was discussing it at work quietly with a few ladies.  I was in a big meeting later that day and a male co-worker walks up and said “Show me your bruise!”.  Awkward.  Had to explain it wasn’t in an ‘appropriate to show at work’ location and then had to field far too many questions about where the bruise was, and why it was there.
• I’m a repeat offender on this one. You know when you’re saying hello to someone and add the usual “How are you”, which they respond with “I’m good, how are you?” Pretty cordial stuff, but since it’s such a common exchange, the initial greater sometimes flubs by adding on another “I’m great, how are you?”  Laughing normally ensues.  Similar to this situation, I have a usual goodbye type phrase when I’m speaking to someone on the phone that is along the lines of “Love you, bye!”  Really, really wish I would stop telling coworkers I loved them!  The worst is after you hang up and realize what you’ve said, wondering whether they’ve heard you or not!

To be honest, I’m surprised more embarrassing stuff doesn’t happen to me on a daily basis.  Although I did once hear over a Cube wall someone referring to ‘Pulling a Nancy’, which apparently means falling down.  Nice to know my reputation at work has more to do with my after bar antics then my work ethic.