It’s No Use Crying over Spilt Milk

April 5, 2008

This past week got off to a very positive start, but ended badly. I’ll start with the good stuff.

I got my observation out of the way, and don’t have to worry about it for another year. I’m always a Nervous Nellie when it comes to these evaluations, but I was even more of a wreck this year because a new administrator was doing the observation. This guy has earned the nickname “Machete,” which should give a pretty good indication of why I was so nervous.

The lesson I taught was about building a Works Cited page using an online service. Just to make things more interesting (not to mention more nerve-wracking), I decided to use the Smart Board that was just installed in my room, and for which I’ve had no training.

The class was late getting to the computer lab, so, while we were waiting, I gave Mr. Machete a copy of the handout I had created. He expressed surprise that I had gone to such trouble, and asked if the teacher had asked me to do it (which he felt would have been inappropriate on the instructor’s part since I am there to assist teachers, not do their work for them). I assured him that I had taken it upon myself to develop the lesson plan and create the handout.

Mr. Machete made it clear that he was impressed. He said, “This is a very valuable resource for the teachers.” I replied, “Yes it is.” (This was not the time for false modesty. I worked my butt off on this lesson, and deserved the credit for it.)

The class finally arrived, and the lesson commenced. Much to my relief, everything went smoothly. Mr. Machete got up to leave a few minutes before the period ended, caught my eye and mouthed the words, “That was very good.”

About twenty minutes later, he came back with my completed observation in hand. Evaluation is based on a numerical system: 0. Unsatisfactory 1. Requires Improvement 2. Acceptable 3. Strong 4. Exceptional. I got mostly 4s, and a few 3s. Mr. Machete said the lesson was “extraordinary,” and told me I am an asset to the school. You could have knocked me over with a feather.

The next day, I chaperoned a class trip to the Museum of Modern Art in NYC. We arrived early, so, to kill some time, we took the kids to Trump Tower. One student said, “Donald Trump is my dawg. That man knows how to make money.” Indeed.

At the museum, the kids were very well behaved. We saw paintings by Diego Rivera and Freda Kahlo, as well as some pop art pieces.

While in the city, I kept an eye out for Kathy, who also just happened to be in NYC that day. Alas, there were no Kitchen Logic sightings. Still, It was a wonderful trip.

Yesterday, I took the day off to see the orthopedic surgeon for the results of my recent MRI. After reviewing the radiology report, Dr. Bones proceeded to talk about my shoulder. I remarked that I was there because of my shoulder blade.

The look on the doctor’s face upon hearing that caused me to have a sinking feeling. I blurted out, “Please don’t tell me that they did an MRI of my shoulder.” He said, “I’m sorry.” Then he beat a hasty retreat and sent his nurse to deal with the situation.

At first, she and I both thought it was the fault of the Imaging Center, which would have been the least complicated scenario because they would have to do another MRI at their own expense. However, after flipping through my chart, the nurse came across two scripts. One was for an MRI of the scapula (which is the one I had been given and then lost on my way to the Imaging facility). The other was for an MRI of the shoulder.

I can’t even begin to imagine why another script was written out. They were supposed to fax a copy of the original script over to the Imaging Center. Apparently, that is not what happened. A new script was written, and the wrong body part was scanned.

This is a very fine mess they’ve gotten me into. My insurance company authorized an MRI of the scapula. They will not (and should not) pay for somebody else’s error. I don’t know how this is going to be resolved. The nurse said she would look into it, and get back to me next week.

Of course, this means that I will have to go back for yet another MRI. It took all my strength to keep from burying my head in my hands and sobbing right there in the examining room. Enough is enough, and this really is too much.

And now for something completely different

I first saw this “If I Were” meme over at Mary’s place, and then at LA’s. It looked like fun, so I’m doing it, too. My answers are reflective of my state of mind yesterday.

If I were a direction I’d be North by Northwest.

If I were furniture I’d be worn out.

If I were a liquid I’d be spilt milk.

If I were a sin I’d be mortal.

If I were a gem/stone I’d be black onyx.

If I were a metal I’d be heavy. (Get it? Heavy metal? Yeah, yeah, I know.)

If I were a tree I’d be chopped down.

If I were a fruit I’d be overripe.

If I were a flower I’d be wilted.

If I were weather I’d be a blizzard.

If I were a musical instrument I’d be a gong.

If I were an element I’d be Lithium.

If I were a color I’d be red.

If I were an animal I’d be shipped off to the glue factory.

If I were a sound I’d be the pounding surf.

If I were a lyric I’d be by the seaside, by the beautiful sea.

If I were a song I’d be featured in the musical, “Stop the World, I Want to Get Off.”

If I were a music type I’d be screamo.

If I were a perfume/cologne I’d be one of LA’s delightful homemade concoctions.

If I were a feeling I’d be desperation.

If I were a book I’d be the Physician’s Desk Reference.

If I were food I’d be served on Thanksgiving.

If I were a city I’d be Atlantis.

If I were a taste I’d be sour.

If I were a scent I’d be formaldehyde.

If I were a word I’d be censored.

If I were a verb I’d be a lot more active.

If I were an object I’d be Unidentified and Flying.

If I were a piece of clothing I’d be a straitjacket.

If I were a body part I’d be scanned by an MRI machine.

If I were a facial expression I’d be scowling.

If I were a cartoon character I’d be Bad Luck Schleprock.

If I were a movie I’d be Titanic.

If I were a geometrical figure I’d be a triangle.

If I were one of the four seasons I’d be Winter.

If I were a sentence I’d be a run on.

Song of the Day: Spilled Milk by Tanya Stephens


4 Responses to “It’s No Use Crying over Spilt Milk”

  1. The medical profession baffles me. It is frightening how many mistakes are made.

  2. terri t. said

    It seems to me that whoever wrote the new script for the shoulder is at fault and should be paying for the error i.e. doctor or his asst. Second the MRI made an error because they didn’t check to see that the new script was the one that was auth. by the ins. company. In no way should you, the patient, be responsible. I expect between the dr and the MRI group, they could write this off….don’t give up if they try to blow it off…
    Congrats on the evaluation, that is huge!!!!

  3. LeAnn said

    If I were a city, I’d be New York!! That field trip sounded so awesome!! How’s the weather this month? I do believe we will be there before the end of April!! I hope they get the right body part next MRI. Congrats on the super great eval!! You do good work!! If I were a student, I’d want a teacher just like you!!

  4. Michael said

    Congratulations on the great evaluation! What a great feeling it must be to know that your work is appreciated.

    On the other hand, it stinks that you have to go through another MRI, but it’s not your mistake and you shouldn’t have to be responsible for paying for it. That’s just common sense (which as we know is a commodity in great supply in the med biz).

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