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10 July 2003

I went in to the office to train my replacement today--it's her third day on the job (she's been working with Mrs. G while I was out of town). The first thing she said to me was "I don't know how you did this job. It's much too much work for one person."

An hour later, she quit.

So we're back to square one. Dr. G asked if she could work tomorrow, to finish out the week (since there are no patients on Friday). She said no. I agreed to work half a day tomorrow.

I came home kicking myself for agreeing to do that, and for considering coming in next week to work, since it's a full week. I'm such a pushover.

On the ride in to the office today, I was telling Mrs. G that when I was working at an ob/gyn office, we realized that the only people who stayed in their jobs in that place were those who came from dysfunctional families. The people pleasers. We decided at that time that we should include in the qualifications for new employees "must be from a dysfunctional family."

When my replacement quit, Mrs. G and I agreed that she probably was from a functional family.

I knew that I should not go back to work again. But I wanted to be the good guy, to be noble and come in even though injured. To get gold stars in my crown in heaven (as we used to say).

Then I decided....screw that! There is so much I could write about what went into my decision process, but I won't. (Occasionally I am capable of discretion.) But the thing that cinched the decision for me was realizing that my shoulder was aching. And realizing that when I come home from the office, my shoulder is usually aching.

Then I realized that I am supposedly off on full disability at the present.

Finally, I took the coward's way out--I sent him an e-mail saying that I would, as agreed, work half a day tomorrow, though I would take a cab home instead of waiting until he has time to drive me.

And that I had to be selfish and take care of my own health now, and so I would not be able to work next week. It took a lot of nerve to hit "send," but I did it.

Later in the evening, I received a response from him. It said essentially "whatever." (Actually it said "Understand," and then talked about the training process for my next replacement)

I realized that if the tables had been turned, there's no way in the world he would have bent over backwards and jeopardized his health for me. It's not my office. Replacing me is his problem. Nobody gives you awards (or even, in this case, recognition) for going the extra mile.

I am officially off (again) as of 3 p.m. tomorrow.


Honor isn't about making the right choices.  It's about dealing with the consequences. 

~ Source Unknown

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Santa Barbara Beach

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Created 7/9/03 

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