First Rule of Interviewing: Don't Choke - June 12, 2008

I recently received a phone call from a local hospital.

"Dr. Dobrenski, this is Dr. Straka," she said in a heavy accent that sounded Eastern European. "I'm a Psychiatrist at ___________ Hospital and I'm wondering if you'd be interested in sitting down to discuss an opening we have in our department."

Psychiatrists are fairly strange folk so the idea of sitting down with one didn't sound overly appealing, especially since I'm not actively looking for more work.

"What type of opening?" I asked just in case it paid four million dollars per week. Plus benefits.

"We just need someone to come in a few days each week to see some of our patients for therapy. I only have time to do the meds and there's no one else in the department who is available. You should know up front that you'd have to do your own billing and scheduling and that there is no group supervision unfortunately. It's just not in the budget. You know how it is."

"Yes yes, that's a shame," I said and a big smile grew across my face. You don't need to be an entrepreneur to appreciate this type of opportunity. Complete autonomy. No one like Dr. Allison chasing me around to talk about some obscure article on "Psychoanalysis for Cats" that no one will ever read. No Dr. Gail to get on my case about placing a period after each "A" and "M" on my morning clients' progress notes. No Dr. Pete to make me listen to Hall and Oates and discuss its ramifications on his music therapy practice. And of course no rent increase from Dr. Steve. I could just go in, see the patients, help them as best as possible and go home.

"Can we sit down tomorrow?" I asked.

The next morning I was in my jeans and blazer (as you know I don't wear suits). In typical physician fashion Dr. Straka was twenty minutes late. When she arrived she quickly introduced herself and whisked me away to a small room with a desk, two chairs and a lamp. She sat down and pulled out a form with my name and a list of the hospital's patients on it.

"If you don't mind me asking, how did you find me?" I asked. Through ShrinkTalk.Net I'm sure. It was just a matter of time before my words reached the greater psychiatric community!

"You submitted your resume to us about a year ago. We didn't need someone then but I held onto your paperwork just in case."

I had no recollection of doing this and marked it as a sign of early-onset Dementia.

Dr. Straka, while cordial on the phone, proved to be a very unusual woman. She scratched her face a lot. She touched the top of her head as if adjusting an invisible hat. She didn't even really seem very interested in my background or my qualifications. I suppose she just wanted someone with a degree to take some of the pressure off of her.

"You seem good enough. Let's get you over to nursing to discuss paperwork."

The head of the nursing department was a large, brusque woman whose English was difficult to understand. She was introduced to me as 'Mrs. Ma'am.'

"Hello Ms. Mrs. Ma'am" I said.

"No! I Mrs. Ma'am," she yelled. "You call me that!"

"I'm sorry, Ma'am. I mean Mrs. Ma'am."

Mrs. Ma'am nodded suspiciously and immediately launched into an argument with Dr. Straka about where my referral forms should be placed for her signature: on the right side of the desk or the left. It was Mrs. Ma'am's contention that the forms should be on her right side where she could easily reach them with her writing hand. Dr. Straka countered that the left side of the desk was closer to the door and therefore more quickly reached upon entering Mrs. Ma'am's office.

"No!" Mrs. Ma'am shouted. "On my right!"

"Mrs. Ma'am," Dr. Straka said, not so quietly herself as she scratched her face, "you have to understand that..."

At that point Dr. Straka noticed some vanilla wafer cookies on the desk. She picked up two of them, popped them into her mouth, and began to ramble incoherently, possibly more on how the left side of the desk was indeed the preferable side for my referral forms.

"It's important for you," chomp chomp, "to realize," chomp chomp, guhhhhhh....

Dr. Straka began to choke on the vanilla cookies to the point that her face started to change from a light tan to purple. Mrs. Ma'am put her hands up to her own throat indicating to me that Dr. Straka was choking which seemed obvious based on the wheezing and flailing of the doctor's arms.

Mrs. Ma'am came over to Dr. Straka and, rather than performing the Heimlich maneuver that I imagine most nurses would do, punched her in the back three times with a closed fist. On the third hit against Dr. Straka's hollow frame the cookies dislodged, allowing Dr. Straka to breathe fully if not very labored, and she nodded her head vigorously as if in agreement with Mrs. Ma'am's treatment approach.

"You want water?" Mrs. Ma'am asked.

"Ye..yes please."

Dr. Straka drank the water in one large gulp, sat the cup down, and recommenced her argument. "The left side of the desk is clearly where the referral forms should go," she said. At that point she picked up another vanilla cookie, tossed it into her mouth and, clearly having learned her lesson to cut her cookie intake by one-half, rattled off something that sounded like a valid reason for put the forms where she would like.

"Fine fine," Mrs. Ma'am said. "But only on a trial basis." Pointing to me she concluded "See how well we compromise here?"

"Ah yes," Dr. Straka said, clearly satisfied to be right. And alive. "Welcome aboard!" she said.

Ideally I'll be starting this new position soon. Dr. Straka probably mentioned my start date during lunch but I couldn't make out most of what she said. Apparently some shrinks are not only neurotic but gustatorially challenged as well. It's a small price to pay for complete autonomy.

Posted by Rob Dobrenski at 4:16 PM

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Comments

Actually, because the heimlich maneuver is likely to crack a rib, a series of open palm blows to the upper back is the proper way of helping someone dislodged food they're chocking on.

As for a closed fist...

Posted by: T at June 12, 2008 07:39 PM

Congrats. Hopefully there are no hidden Dr. Lecters tied up anyplace.

Posted by: Mike at June 12, 2008 08:24 PM

I can't wait to read your next post.
You probably get this a lot but I really enjoy reading your posts. It's very well written and funny with lots of empathetic notes. I got here from gaijinsmash as I'm also teaching in Japan at the moment but I'll be pursuing some sort of psych related grad stuff when I go home.
Thanks for sharing your stories. ^__^

Posted by: Mythical Fey at June 12, 2008 11:13 PM

Wow...hopefully this proves as interesting as it sounds like it could be! Looking forward to future posts.

Posted by: Amber at June 13, 2008 12:04 AM

haha what the hell, that sounds a bit suspicious bro.

Are you sure this new place is bigtime enough for you? On the plus side, hopefully you might get more time for updating your blog when you should be working :p

Posted by: Jackmo at June 13, 2008 03:40 AM

Dr Rob, your stuff is great! Just had to tell you.

Posted by: Jeannette at June 13, 2008 05:32 AM

Its not true. If you do the heimlich maneuver with the proper strength it is not likely to break a rib. The blows are supposed to be made to the sternum if someone pregnant or very fat cannot receive the heimlich maneuver.

Posted by: Anonymous at June 13, 2008 08:22 AM

So does this mean you won't be working at the office you were before or is this just some side work?

Dr. Rob Note: Just a side gig.

Posted by: Jenna at June 13, 2008 09:54 AM

What in the world have you gotten yourself into?

Posted by: Wayland at June 13, 2008 05:41 PM

I actually laughed out loud when you described what the nurse did to relieve Dr. Straka. You know I enjoy your writing, so thanks as always, and good luck at your new job!

Posted by: Blank at June 15, 2008 12:49 AM

And you got the job wearing jeans to an interview...amazing. Were you at least wearing nice shoes??

Posted by: Yasmin at June 16, 2008 12:37 AM

Doc Rob, I write this to you from the heart, in a purely altruistic fashion: Run!!! Run as FAST as you can from this job!!!!
(Okay, well, maybe it will all work out. Who knows? Not me. I am merely a well-meaning Borderline clutching at my own, rapidly fragmenting reality, so I really cannot offer career advice. On the other hand, I Do know a true set-up for nuttiness when I read about one. Still...one Must be optimistic, I suppose. Martin Seligman says so).
That said, I still say: RUN, I tell you, RUN!!! (Or, at least continue to write very funny updates about this whole situation. Dr. Straka sounds like a complete nut. As for Nurse M'am, I'd stay away from her. God knows what she would do if anyone started to hyperventilate. Perhaps respond quickly with a powerfully therapeutic punch in the face? :)

Posted by: Borderline Betty at June 16, 2008 09:45 AM

..four million dollars. PLUS benefits. AWESOME!

Posted by: AngelLove at June 16, 2008 10:38 AM

Have you considered that someone may be involving you in an elaborate experiment, ala Stanley Milgram? Or maybe even Allen Funt?

Be on the lookout for two-way mirrors and/or good "hidden camera" spots.

Or, maybe this is just a front for some Russian mafia slave trading organization. They need you to supply an air of legitimacy or something.

Whatever the case, I'm sure it's sinister.

Posted by: Disciple of "Bob" at June 16, 2008 05:25 PM

Great side gig setup...you come and go as you want, and they leave you alone. We dream of jobs like that....so as long as the billing side isn't a train wreck, it seems like you fell into a good deal. Don't screw it up.

Posted by: Therapeutic Ramblings at August 12, 2008 11:18 AM