I admit, I have been hoping for a last-minute rescue--in that way you learn to do in early childhood, from watching too many cartoons--which would keep me at Gimbels. Well, none is forthcoming, and I have been busy devising the following back-up plan:
1. Macy's, my traditional nemesis, is still using Hospitalists-R-Us to provide inpatient services, and they are quite eager to employ me. Because they have only one full-time position available, I am splitting it 50-50 with my friend and colleague who is also set adrift by our mutual decision to leave Xpress Hospitalists.
2. Another hospital, which is new to these ridiculous chronicles of rural medicine and which I shall call Nordstrom, has a hospitalist program nominally run by Xpress but with a much more canny and involved site director who has managed to make a successful program despite the general incompentence of the Xpress administrators. Nordstrom is a member of a successful nonprofit healthcare organization which has managed to do pretty well during the last decade, and they are committed to expanding the Xpress program there, so there is plenty of work for my friend and I to thrive. The major downside of working at Nordstrom is the commute: it is located in the county immediately north or Rural--let's call it Extra-Rural--about a seventy-five minute drive away. Too far for a daily commute, so nights in a dismal hotel room are in my future.
Strangely enough, I don't mind the idea of working at Nordstrom at all, despite the commute and the inevitable necessity of proving myself to a brand new medical and nursing staff. Let's face it, hospitals are clannish places and everyone casts a jaundiced eye over the New Doc in Town. I know this because, on some occasions, it has been my eye which has swept its yellowish gaze over the work of journeyman physicians. Never let it be said I can't take it as well as I dish it out.
Being the New Doc at Nordstrom is nothing compared to the bitterness of working at Macys. Even though it will be an easier transition, because I already know the consultants and the services there, and many of the ranking medical staff have been very supportive and welcoming of my decision to leave Xpress, I still harbor old grudges against the place, after having been the victim of some truly stupendous outrages at the hands of its doctors. It is going to be difficult to wipe the slate clean.
To stay on the safe side, I have signed up for only a couple of day shifts in order to get an orientation to the program, and will switch to night shifts as my regular Macys gig. I suppose this makes me a nocturnalist. I'm not a big fan of night shifts, but at least I won't have to participate in the daytime hospital culture. By this I mean the unending chatter, committee meetings, staff well-being celebrations, raffles, and daily reminders from the administration to pull yourself together which sometimes feels like you're getting pecked to death by birds. This was bad enough at Gimbels--dear old Gimbels--and I'll be tarred and feathered before I get pecked at by the Macys flock.
I am the same about coastlines. Hope it works out well though and the Noo continues to do well.
Posted by: dragonfly | June 23, 2009 at 02:57 AM
Tempting, very tempting, Jen.
I've never lived in the midwest. I worry when I can't get to a coastline in less than an hour.
Posted by: Theresa | June 22, 2009 at 04:11 PM
I don't suppose you have any interest in moving to the midwest and rejoining traditional family practice? We have an opening for a great 4th family doc to join our 3 family doc, 2 NP practice - full service family practice with obstetrics, absolute lovely colleagues!
Okay, I remember the post about why you live where you live, but it's worth asking, right?
Posted by: doctorjen | June 22, 2009 at 03:48 PM