I, like the President, am now a public servant. I did not have to take an oath (although I really thought I should have) but I had to watch a video about taking one. Let me explain.
I’ll be doing some moonlighting shifts in the Emergency Room at the Veteran’s Hospital across the street from our apartment. It’s a good gig, well-paying, convenient, not too difficult. I’ve been trying to start since July. But the amount of red tape at the VA is astounding. 3 different and apparently completely independent agencies within the VA had to process me. After months of lost papers, wrong forms, then outdated forms, signatures, approval committees and their approval committees, after 2 PPD shots and a cholesterol check, after all this, I was now invited to orientation.
And I cried. I sat there in the room simply called “Assembly Room” and tears rolled down my face. Not from happiness or misery but because I was now a public servant. I think the videos really got to me, or maybe the photographs of war on walls, or the conversation I had with the veteran who was as fascinated with Revolutionary War history as I am (the stakes were so against us, I still can’t believe we won). But I was joining the United States government. I was going to help those who have served our country. I was actually thanked (on video) for my service! I, a Polish immigrant! My POW grandfather would have been so proud of me. It was too much. My bosom almost started leaking from emotion(this happens sometimes, it’s very annoying).
I was surrounded by other newbies, ones less emotionally shaken. The middle-aged Hispanic woman to my right who was starting in Dental as an assistant broke the silence of our group. She’d had experience working for the government before so she was not as idealistic, “Wojkin fo Riker’s fo 10 yeys and jew tink jew’s set, but jew isn’t, they just lay jew off like that, benefits and all” Apparently she had great benefits. In front of her sat an older Black man, dressed in green from head to toe, who was also going to Dental, either sterilization or assistant, he wasn’t sure. He had on a green newsies hat, a green t-shirt underneath a green button down shirt with some gold chains peering through, green jeans, not sure about the shoes. Behind him a man going to sales, a vet. Up in front were a discombobulated psychiatrist who kept asking if she’d missed the meeting about benefits and an ivy-league-trained social worker. In front of me sat a quiet ICU nurse who tried to pretend that she was also a newbie by faking getting lost. But she was not new it turned out towards the end, she’d been working in the ICU for decades before getting put on probation. Sending her to orientation was apparently supposed to be a new beginning. I never did find out her dirty dark secret even though we were partners in a ice-breaker game called “get to know you” where we had to present our partner to the rest of the group. Oddly, the game was played in the last 10 minutes before orientation ended and we all sprinted to our cars to beat the traffic. The day was full of speakers, videos, computer training on things like sexual harassment and fire prevention, and lunch. Finally, signed some more papers, was welcomed aboard, and sent to get an ID.
It was there I was told, “your application has been terminated”. And not because I’m a terrorist (I’m not) but because the whole process had taken so long that the system started purging me from it. Not sure why this was not picked up earlier but probably has something to do with the fact that NO ONE IN THE VA HAS ANY IDEA WHAT IS GOING ON BEYOND THEIR CUBICLE. And that my friends is why I could never, as sad as it is, support a government run health care system.
