“Patience is not the ability to wait, but the ability to keep a good attitude while waiting.”- Anonymous
Well, I THOUGHT I was in the final stretch of my preparation for employment as a Medical Assistant, but there is one more hurdle to jump through, one that I did not adequately see coming.
I have completed all of my academic requirements, with pretty darned good grades. I successfully completed my externship. I passed the National Healthcareer Association’s federal exam. I have been granted the certification of Certified Clinical Medical Assistant.
However, the merciless machine of political bureaucracy, that impacts us all on some level, is the last flaming hoop I have to jump through. And it’s being mighty obstinate.
Every healthcare practitioner in Washington State, from CNA up to MD, needs to be granted a license to practice medicine from the Department of Health, after they have completed their training. Fair enough. I suppose it’s a good thing that the government checks you out before you start treating people. However, Olympia does like to license things. I think we need a license to flush our toilets now. But I digress…
I finished all of my academic requirements, and was granted my credential, in the last week of December, 2020. I filled out the application and sent it off, with a money order for a paltry $145, on December 2nd. I paid for the application to arrive in Olympia on January 4th. My instructor had advised me to send it certified mail. Now, I hate to knock an agency that’s trying it’s best, and has been under political attack for some time now, but I’m not entirely certain that the USPS has their heart in it. I don’t know, maybe book a Tony Robbins seminar with the New York Jets or something.
My application arrived on January 6th. Good golly, Miss Molly. Olympia is about an hour drive from Seattle. If I had known that this was going to be the case, I would have just driven the application down myself. Scenic drive, too, once you get to the Nisqually Delta.
I called the Department of Health later that week, to see if they had gotten the application. They couldn’t find it. Well, alright! Things are going great!
Well, the wheels spun for a little bit, and I called Olympia on January 22nd. Bear in mind, I knew that the licensing was going to be a requirement, but I had figured about a week, at most. Wha-wha! Anyway, the courteous representative I spoke with said that they indeed had received my application, but had only started work on it 2 days earlier.
The representative told me that they were running very far behind, and that it will take some time. I asked him if it would take longer than 2 or 3 weeks. He did not hesitate when he said: Definitely.
I call the DOH every now and then, just to make sure everything is still going okay. The assure me that it is, but it will still be awhile. Every representative I’ve talked to has been extremely courteous and friendly. I guess you can afford to be when hold the power. The big smile says: “You have to wait, jackass! Anything else I can help you with? My pleasure!”
I know the Department of Health is busy. I know they are behind. Covid, you know. That virus, I tell you… Handy excuse for delays. Can’t put a man on Mars yet? Covid.
I suppose, also, that because of the need for healthcare workers (Covid), that there may be quite a few former healthcare veterans who are reentering the field. But really, you would think that the DOH might expedite things a bit for people getting healthcare licenses. Because, you know, Covid.
The DOH, of course, needs to do a criminal background check. That makes sense. But I can’t possibly imagine what else they are investigating about me. My grooming habits? My shoe size? Whether or not I remember cursive and how to hook up a dial-up modem? (Yes on both.) Whether or not I remember to put my pants on everyday? (Most, days, yes.) Are they going to call my Mom or something?
So I sit and wait. The school did warn us that this would happen, but I wish there had been some way to engineer things a little more expeditiously. I had assumed I would be working by about mid-January. That hope collapsed like a Seahaws offensive line, and Russell Wilson is lying dead on the ground.
Even though there is a high demand right now, it’s tough for a new Medical Assistant to find work. Naturally, clinics and facilities prefer experienced people. I’ve had a few interviews, and things went well, but they always ask when I think I’ll get my license. It’s not like they can put a position on hold while they wait for the DOH to press the right buttons. Healthcare needs help now.
But, everything happens for a reason. So they say. I’m not sure I believe that, but, as it turns out, this might not be entirely bad timing.
As it turns out, I could use the time off right now.
It’s no secret, and I’m not ashamed to say it: I have an anxiety disorder. Anatomy and physiology fascinated me in school, and I’ll write a post soon on what goes on in an anxious person’s head.
Over the last month or so, I’ve had several stressors develop. One is being unemployed, and living on my dwindling savings. Another is the licensing process itself. An anxious mind tends to do what’s called catastrophising, playing out, repeatedly, the worst case scenario. I got anxious with the DOH and their delay. What if they find something? What if I filled something out wrong? What if they tell me that I belong in healthcare as much as that loony lady from Georgia belongs in Congress? What if I can’t perform as an MA once I do get a job? My externship was fascinating, but not without its problems. That’s for another post, as well.
The main stressor is my father. He is 92, and has had several strokes recently. My family found out recently that he has weeks, 2 months at most, left to live.
I tell you, there’s a lot of work that needs to be put in when someone is checking out. Calling extended family members, contacting various agencies, that sort of thing. In the meantime, you still have to find a way to experience grief.
I could feel the spiral happening again, and for the first time in a long time, I experienced a panic attack. It’s a horrible sensation. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. The brain is like any other organ in the human body; sometimes things can go wrong with it.
But, I have a very skilled psychiatrist, Dr. Dispensapill. With a small tweak of my medications, the anxiety has largely abated. It will still be present, along with periods of depression. These are normal as you watch your father die. But there is a difference between situational anxiety and depression and clinical anxiety and depression. With some good therapy, the anxiety has lowered dramatically, and I have had no further panic attacks.
And so, life goes on. It’s really not such a bad thing that I have this time off.
I’ve been going over the healthcare basics again. It’s surprising what I’ve committed to memory, what now comes naturally without having to think about it.
I bought one of those dummy arms so that I could practice my phlebotomy. My brother Pedro says he’s willing to be my human test arm. Er……
I’ve done a ton of writing and research, and will have plenty more posts coming.
And I’ve done that usual trick people do when facing the loss of a loved one: I have cleaned the HELL out of this apartment!
My head is getting screwed back on, and I’m feeling better. But I have grief to come. It’s good then, to have a little time off.
Make every moment count. Don’t be afraid to tell someone you love them. Wash your hands!