For Leigh

What I Do.

Well. I wanted to write a response to the request "send an email about what you do." But I wanted it to be witty and comprehensive and biographical and open and informative and impressive; above all things, it -- what I write -- should be impressive.

But then I sit down and try to think about: where to start? And: how open? And: how comprehensive? And: can I even do witty? One of the things that is always mysterious and confounding is walking in on my husband...thinking. Creative writerly types spend a lot of time thinking. And lately I've been trying to get more in touch with my creative side, so I now recognize the truth of the necessity of that. I need to make space and time in my existence to sit and think. Think of ideas and plans and imagine stuff and visualize perfect hats and scarves and crocheted flowers dancing through that space.

And I need to write more. And I need to watch less tv. Oh, and, read more.

So, here is the story of some of the things I've done, and what I do now.

When I graduated from high school, I got a job as a long distance operator for AT&T. I was so proud of that job, because I had to take a test to get it! A long test, a real test! I can't recall, now, what kinds of questions comprised the test, though. For all I know it was some psych battery. But, hey, at least I passed. I was an operator at the tail end of human operators. Remember those? I didn't have the kind of board where you plug into "trunk" lines, but we turned in punch cards to make certain fixes or requests of the computer. BASIC punch cards! AT&T hired people from my class in January, as temps. We were temps, so no benefits, but the company was a closed shop of the CWA, so we had to pay union dues. I believe they came out of our pay? We worked 11+ months, and then AT&T laid all the temps off at Christmas. They did this every year, it allowed them to get around some terms in the labor contract.

I assisted customers making person-to-person calls, collect calls, and, because I spoke some Spanish, I sometimes took easy Spanish calls. During my time at this job, I started college at UNM. I took a Spanish 101 class, it was one of my first college courses. The instructor was a Mexican grad student. In my memory, he's so much older than me, but now I realize he was probably in his early 20s. Ha. So, one day I'm at work, and in comes a call to Mexico. Calls to Mexico were unique. Callers were often calling small pueblos or villages with one phone for the whole community. The operator would call that phone and inform the answerer that so-and-so would be calling. Something like that. Anyway, it was my professor, on the phone. I recognized his voice. The thing is, I had stopped going to his class after the first test. The class was too basic for me. But I was a college novice, and I didn't really get it that I needed to drop the class. He asked me why I had never come back, told me that I had aced the first test. I can't remember what excuse I gave him. I placed his call. At the end of the semester, I got an A in the class. I think he was a college novice too.

That job was where I fell for a gay man for the first time. We became best buds. I didn't know he was gay, until I did know it. But he never said anything, and I wonder if he thought I knew, or that I didn't know. I was super clueless. I mean, I met his partner! I was in their house with the magazine photos of Tom Selleck and naked man torsos all over the fridge and bulletin board. We just never talked about it. He and his family were from El Paso/Juarez. I think they were horse ranchers "al otro lado" and had some money. So my friend and his brother, who was a guy from my test class, opened a juice bar here in town. Right near where I live now, actually. I worked there with them (for free) while they were getting it going. They were making licuados: blended fruit drinks. We also made sandwiches. Those guys were ahead of their time, for sure. But it didn't make it, back then. Maybe if it had been in LA. If pressed, I honestly can't recall what happened to that guy or our friendship. I think we just kind of drifted apart after I wasn't working there.

When I lived in Denver, I had moved back in with my parents. I didn't have to work, my parents aren't the kind to make their kids pay rent, though I think that's a mistake, even today (I'm looking at you, 31yo brother!). So I could kind of do whatever work I wanted, and I wanted to work in a bookstore. I really wanted to work in THE bookstore, the Tattered Cover. And I had bookstore experience in a relatively large indie bookstore here in Albuquerque! But I didn't get an interview. So, I called ISIS Metaphysical Books. The owner seemed kind of interested, asked me for my full name and birthdate. The owner, a retired lingerie salesman from NYC, didn't really seem to be that into the metaphysical. But his wife was, and he gave her my info to run my numerology chart. After that, I had the job. I worked the counter and shelved books and did all the stuff you can do in a small bookstore, and then after awhile I was doing a lot of the computer ordering--not really buying, he selected what to order, I ordered it. He was a gruff old bastard. I remember Christmas the first year I worked there, he gave us envelopes full of cash. It was a Christmas bonus, the first I'd ever gotten. It was like something out of a movie. This was maybe 94? 95? Too bad his wife's numerology chart couldn't predict how much merch I'd "borrow" and then didn't get the chance to return after I quit. I quit because I got a second job at a health food grocery store, and was promptly promoted to manager of a department, and then told that I, as a manager, couldn't have a second job, so I would have to choose. That grocery store job ended badly, by the way, with me screaming to be allowed to see my personnel file before it could be scrubbed of the positive reviews I'd received (so the manager could justify firing me) and her threatening to call the police if I didn't leave.

Today I work in a University of New Mexico office, in a locum tenens office. Locum tenens is Latin for place-holder. It's normally used to refer to substitute doctors. NM is a very poor state, with lots of space and not a lot of people. There are rural clinics all over the state that struggle to meet the needs of their little communities. And like in urban/inner-city schools, not a lot of professionals are scrambling to take permanent jobs in Pie Town NM. So, our program gets some state dollars to hire and pay doctors to go work in rural clinics and hospitals. We hire upper level residents, as well as docs who just want to make some extra scratch, or who feel moved to help serve underserved communities. What I do in specific is a lot of the stuff around the credentialing and hiring of the providers, and, once they're hired, help them get credentialed to work at different sites. In order for a doc to be hired by our program, she must have her shit verified. Her education, medical education, medical training, work history, references, licensure, claims history/malpractice, blah blah blah. She must go through a rigorous process in order to be "credentialed" at UNM. That doesn't mean she's allowed to practice medicine at UNM, it just means she is who she says she is, and has the education and experience she says she has. That's step 1. Then she jumps through some hoops to get hired. Sign this form, sign that form, sign your offer letter, fill out your I-9 and bring your Social Security card and your Drivers License. That's step 2. THEN, she decides she wants to provide coverage for a site who has contracted with us for Locums providers. Let's call the site Smespañola. Well, it's all fine and good that we've checked the doc out to make sure she's legit, but Smespañola has their own board and their own bylaws, so they have to do the same credentialing for any provider who is going to work there. PLUS, we haven't allowed Dr X to actually practice medicine at *our* hospital...in order to do that, a doc must be what's called "privileged." That means that the medical education, training, and medical-related work history demonstrate that he or she can perform certain procedures. That way, you, patient, don't get someone trying to do oral surgery on your mouth who's fresh out of dental school and has no experience as a surgeon. Each medical facility gets to say, "Dr X can do this, and this, and this, but not that." That's privileging. So Smespañola requests documents for credentialing, and provides privileging forms for Dr X to sign, and then, at the end of the final hoop of step 3, Dr X can work at Smespañola! Yay! After that, the doc will deal with other people in my office: scheduling, travel reimbursement, payroll, etc. I only see her again if she needs some of those credentialing documents, if/when I need updated licensure information, and when she wants to be credentialed/privileged somewhere else.

There, now you can do my job.

I also love rain, back rubs, and walks on the beach.

Just kidding, I hate walks on the beach.