I interviewed Boeing’s top cockpit designers, who wouldn’t dream of green-lighting a new plane until they had spent thousands of hours watching pilots in simulators and on test flights.
Let me tell you about my favorite provider. She faces me, each of us at right angles to each other at her computer desk, and writes everything down on a yellow legal pad. She goes system by system, like a quality shift hand-off report. We use the computer to review labs. She never prints out “educational information.” I get handwritten notes and web addresses as needed. She talks and writes fast, with military precision (active Air Force) and maintains eye contact. She pauses and sits back in her chair to look at me when she senses I’m holding back or is working to figure out a complex set of problems.
Her pad is on the table between us, and I can see everything she is writing. I sometimes correct or edit it. It is never longer than a page.
Duplication of work you say! Well, with Alice there is no time lost, no errors made by the anguish of garbage in garbage out. We draft it together. Then it goes in the permanent record.
The big hurdle, the big secret… she works at NIH. Where time and dollars aren’t the exact same thing.
Just a thought. PSST she is also a nurse by training <3.
Almost a month and no posts?! My rants have been diverted into papers for a phenomenal policy course I am taking this semester and my links to articles aren’t making it past a retweet.
So here’s my word picture for you: I am emergency landing an Airbus A320 containing all of my adult life on the Hudson River. We hope to hit the water and begin evacuation in late April. And yes, in this metaphor I am Captain Sully and when I nail this I will get to go back in time and sit on the stage for the first inauguration of President Barack Obama.
School is boiling me alive by degree, I’m selling my house, separating from my husband, searching for a first job, squeezing in an MRI here and a trip to NIH there, and hoping it all settles out in time to give my beautiful kid a fun summer break of swimming pools and tee ball before starting kindergarten at a (please God let it be halfway decent) school. See how I used the capital “G” there? That’s right people, there are no no-job-no-home-no-partner having atheists trying to finish nursing school. We’s back on speaking terms, me and Gosh and Jeepers.
But seriously, forgive me my absence. I’ll post some of my writing from class as it applies. Please let it be my belly that hits the water.
My mom has informed me that this metaphor makes no sense. What I’m trying to say is there was a whole series of things I was depending on to bring the end of my career as a student in for a safe landing: a stable household (selling house), a stable income and health insurance (partner leaving and I ain’t got a job), and a plan for school, friends, and recreation for my kid. So let’s think of that stuff as the runway, the landing gear, various instruments… without it I’m depending on my wits, experience, not passing out, and I guess the Hudson would be my parent’s basement.