a revelation from the trash

I went into work for my afternoon shift a couple days ago. As I was getting myself up to snuff on expectations for the rest of the workday, Assistant Boss asks the others, "Shall we tell Abby about our eventful morning?"

So of course they had to tell me at that point because I wasn't about to let it go, let it go...

Phi began telling the story: a young tester came in for a long test - allotted time of 7.5 hours. I'll mention that they have the option to do this test in chunks (ominous word choice), spread out over several visits. But for whatever reason, they scheduled the whole kit 'n' kaboodle for one crazy long session.

It's not clear if it was nerves, something the tester ingested beforehand, a bug, or some combination thereof, but bottom line was that they emerged from the testing room about an hour into it, stating they weren't feeling very well. See where this is going?

They took some calming breaths, felt better, went back to the beast...

...only to emerge a bit later and barf in one of our trash cans. Thankfully, it all went in the trash can.

And I was all, "Eeewww!", thankful to have missed it.

There've been times where the potential was certainly there while I was present. Test anxiety is a real thing, and people react differently, some on the verge of losing it. 

I also recall a woman who forewarned me she was pregnant and might need an abrupt break at some point, but she made it through okay. Another was an early Saturday morning guy who came in reeking of alcohol. I could swear he partied all night and came in to test without much of an interlude. He also, somewhat surprisingly, managed to complete his test without incident.

So they told me this story, of one of the guys heroically taking care of the mess, the incident report that was filed on the tester's behalf, etc. And I'm again thinking how I was glad to have missed it.

And then I realized...

Prior to this job, started only about a year and a half ago, I'd been working at the nursing home. Such a thing and related messes were an every day occurrence. It was just part of the job. 

I was not a nurse or a CNA. Those people deal constantly with body fluids of all kinds and sources. But short staffing is a real thing in skilled nursing facilities, so it was typically all-hands-on-deck, regardless of job title.

And I didn't mind. Not a bit. In fact, I often miss the physicality of that job. It was satisfying to leave work at the end of the day, feeling quite tired and gross, but knowing I helped someone feel less gross. 

The reason I was looking elsewhere and took my current job was for slightly better pay and a better schedule, not to avoid the gross.

But still, it is not in the job description. Let's leave it that way.