Six Years and What?

It must have been sometime in November, maybe the very end of September 2003. I remember what I wore, and what the other girl, who was sitting in the reception area was wearing. I probably remember what she was wearing so well because I remember thinking - 'You're wearing that to an interview? It doesn't even cover your stomach!' And that was the first time I ever walked through the doors at the Blood Bank.
Needless to say, my scantily clad rival did not get the job that we both interviewed for. I ended up starting my job as a Hospital Services Coordinator on December 1, 2003. Aubrielle was 10 months old and not walking yet. We lived in an upstairs one bedroom condo. I remember going to orientation, jotting notes as fast as I possibly could and worrying that they were going to expect me to remember all of this stuff. For someone going into the blood banking industry not knowing whether or not they drew the blood into ziplock bags there was a whole lot to learn! (By the way, no, they do not draw blood into ziplocks...!)
Pretty soon, words like leukocyte and cytolomegavirus were a part of my regular vocabulary. I realized that the letters O, A, B, and AB stand for something and that there was also a meaning behind the + or - sign beside those letters. Fascinating! My job at the Blood Bank was not always peachy, but, I LOVED the fact that there was always something for me to learn.
My tolerance for wierdness extended beyond that of a normal individual as well. The location of the facilities are not necesarily in the best neighborhood around. I remember for weeks, everyday on my drive to work I would see a rather enthused fellow playing his air guitar on the corner by the street light for his adoring masses. Or there was one lady, a bit 'touched', who was on a mission to get us to throw out all of the blood. She snuck into the building twice (maybe three times) to come and try and pray for the blood. One of the drivers found her hiding in a tarp waiting for an opportunity to sneak in. She was quite pesky, although harmless, for a few weeks. The police seemed to be well aquianted with her, perhaps it was them who convinced her to stop her visits and prayer vigils at the Blood Bank...
We also experienced weirdness internally. One man, who was hired as a driver, was very odd. I used to work with him every Sunday, he and his ever present back pack. He used to snort, and pass gass, and came in looking like he literally rolled out of bed. And he always had that back pack. Now, you realize that you're not dealing with a twenty year old college student. The man was 30 years old, carrying around a back pack, that he kept close tabs on. One day he came in with a rubber duck stuffed into his belt. It was one of those things that when you see it, you can't help but do a double take, thinking "Did I really just see what my brain is telling me I saw?". It looked bad, but on my second, involuntary inspection of the wardrobe choice, I realized that it was a rubber duck, not unlike the one my toddler played with in the tub. I told him - "You need to take that thing out of your belt and put it away. It looks bad!" He did listen to that piece of advice. I could spend a lot of time recounting all of the oddities that this man displayed while on the clock, but I won't. I will tell you about his last, and most spectacular stunt, that lives in infamy, to this very day.
I will call him John. He worked the swing shift, 3p.m. - 11:30p.m. So, one day after he clocked out, he was spotted by one of the other drivers exiting the building. This is what you should do after your shift. However, a short time later, he was seen re-entering the building sporting, of course, the back pack, a head lamp, and gloves. The driver who saw him asked him "John, what are you doing?" and he responded "I'm on a mission." And that was that. The driver didn't think to question him further. Remember, the man came to work with a rubber duck in his pants. You get desensitized after a while when you are dealing with wierdos. Moments later the staff on duty heard a loud CRASH and THUD coming from one of the locked offices. I don't know who opened the door but they found a somewhat stunned, yet unharmed John climbing off of a filing cabinet. And there was a man-sized hole in the ceiling. He was fired after that incident, and his picture was posted in the security shack. And a handful of years later, still, no one has figured out why he was climbing around up there.
Or there was our angry friend, who started arguments with everyone, went around muttering under his breath, and punched poles outside. He had a rather unique hair do. One of the girls had a hat that looked like a duck and the front part was a duck bill. She brought it to work and put it on and asked "Who am I?" Yeah, we all knew who it was. His employment was pretty short term. There was one after that who got into the scary realm, but he was 'canned' as well.
I've worked with individuals who can 'disappear' better than anyone I know, and people that, when they are in the building there is no mistaking where they are. I've worked with people who spend more time and effort looking like they're working, than it would actually take to really work. I've seen more indiscretion that I care to think about. There were several couples whom I believed upon first impression to be married, and I found that they were married, just not to each other. Some were found in compromising positions in various locations around the facilities and surrounding parking areas. Yikes.
And the phone calls. I think that any type of medical facility probably gets any number of amazing phone calls and situations. I've dealt with a number of memorable calls. . . You wouldn't believe what people are willing to spout off once someone answers the phone!
And in six years I have made friends. There are a lot of wonderful people that work at the Blood Bank. I have learned enough to bore masses of people with all my jabbering about the things that I find fascinating, and they don't really care about. My husband has fallen asleep more than once listening to my lectures on "What I Read Today". I learned soooo much while working for the Blood Bank!
So, when I went into work and clocked in one week ago, today, I was a bit surprised to see my supervisor waiting for me in the hallway. She told me that the Vice President had just called and wanted to talk to us. There's just no way to explain the awful feeling that you get in the pit of your stomach when you walk into that kind of situation. I asked her, "Did I do something?" And she told me, "I don't know, he just called me." At that point my mind was racing, I couldn't think of anything that I had done!
We get into this little meeting room, where there's just a table, chairs, and a box of tissue on the table. Huh? I guess I am a bit naive. My work experiences have been smooth sailing so far. I've been offered every job that I've interviewed for (Which doesn't say much, I've only worked a few places, and only for the last ten years, six of which I spent at the same place.) I have never, ever been fired, contrary to popular belief, and furthermore, I have never been written up. And I have never been layed off. Until last week.
I am sure that the business of lay offs and firing people is horrible. Of course, it's not as bad for the people that have to do it as it is for those left jobless, but it's got to be a bad day nonetheless. And me, I'm sitting there kind of dumbstruck, probably with a totally huh? kind of look on my face during the brief speech. I didn't get it until he looked me in the face and told me "We're laying you off." I can tell you I was thinking a hundred things at that moment, the foremost of which was - don't cry. And what did I do? I cried. I know why that tissue box was there. I will tell you, where ever I go from here, where ever I end up working, if they take me into a bare room and there's a tissue box on the table I think I might just have to run out of there.
I heard some nice things about what a good employee I was and how they really hoped that I could come back soon. Well, darling, you can't pay the bills and feed your kids with nice words...
What happens from here? I don't know for sure. That's the hard part. However, I am not really all that sad to leave. There are some people that I will miss dearly. But, hey, I know where they work!
We've been stuck in a cycle of just making it. It's a hard cycle to break. It's tiring. Both of us work, and it's hard, and we deal with all of this to just make it? Don't get me wrong - God has taken care of my family. His presence has been so BIG, and undeniable! But I have said that it was going to take something drastic to get us out of this rut. Well, here it is. I think. I am so glad that I can leave this in God's capable hands, and I know, because I have seen Him do it time and time again, that He will take care of things. He is an 'On Time God'.