It isn't often at work that I get to press the panic button. The panic button is located just under my desk, where I bang my knee on it every time I cross my legs. It seems like every hour at work, I'm thinking "Ouch! Stupid panic button!" as I rub my hurt knee, but Monday, I was so glad it was there. Panic Button, I will never call you stupid again!
It was about 4:00 pm on Monday, which is also the time that all of my help leaves to go home and I am all alone, when a young woman came up to my desk to ask about her father's surgery. I explain that it wasn't time yet for me to call for an update, but I could call in 40 minutes and I would if they don't call first. She seemed appeased. She sat back down with her family. Maybe 10 minutes later, she returned, with another family member, and asked me again. This is not unusual. I find myself repeating things to the same people dozens of times a night. So I didn't think anything of repeating to her that at 4:40 I could call and check on him, but not before. We certainly would not want to take the surgeon's attention away from the patient anymore than was absolutely necessary, and I would be so happy to call at 4:40 if they hadn't called me first. She didn't say anything, but sat back down. Not 5 minutes later, she returned, nostrils flaring, hands on hips and in her best Bon Qui Qui ebonics, said "I wanna speak to your manager!".
My manager is Judi and is a sweet, mild tempered lady. I call Judi, and tell her to explain to this woman that I can't call back until 4:40, I think she'll understand. Boy, was I wrong! I said "Ma'am,.. this is my manager, Judi, on the phone..." and handed her the reciever. Please imagine this going on in a quiet surgical waiting room, and in the most ghetto dialect you can muster...
"Yes, Miss Judi? Um, yeah, I would like you to know that this thang you got up here is rude and dont need to be working here. Yes, this,.. what yo name? Trody. Trody, she don't be helping no body and I dont like her. Mmm hmm. I'm gonna say it, she racist. She dont be helping the black people. She racist."
At this point, I am totally in shock. A RACIST?! What?!! I tried very hard not to react to her statement, because I know that's what she wanted- she wanted me to react so she would have something to say. I just sat at my desk and stared at my ink pen in disbelief. Meanwhile, a sweet white woman (about my mother's age) had heard the whole thing. She decided to chime in.
"Oh please! That is uncalled for! She was not racist with you! She's doing her job. Leave her alone!"
To which Bon Qui Qui replied "I am not talking to you, Woman! You just hesh! I was talking here to dis Miss Judi!"
The conversation is getting more and more heated by the second and Bon Qui Qui's nostrils are flaring in rage. Necks are rolling, gums are smacking, fingers are pointing. Time for Panic Button. My shaking fingers are searching blindly under the desk for that little white button of hope. Where is that button! I bang my knees on you all night long and now you want to hide from me when I need you! Where oh were is.. ahh!! There you are! I press it several times in a row.
Within seconds, I get a call from security guard, Anthony, who confirms that I need some help right away and sends me three officers while we are on the phone.
By now, Bon Qui Qui has slammed the phone and gone back to her seat, out of sight from my desk. Simultaneously, my boss shows up from her office and sits with me for a minute to get an idea of what in the world is going on. I show her my documentation of where they've been updated more frequently than any other patient we'd had that day, and how it simply wasn't time for another update yet. She tells me to stay in my seat and she'd go talk to her.
Minutes pass by,.. and it feels like an eternity before Judi reappears at my desk. Guys, this is the best part of the story...
"Well, I talked to her and she's calm now. She's still pretty upset with you, and I want you to know you handled this well and did nothing wrong, so don't worry about that."
I breathe a sigh of releif that she is on my side.
"Well, I just wish I understood where she got that I was being racist. I mean, that's a horrible accusation to say about someone. I haven't been anything but polite to her."
Judi shakes her head and says, "Don't even think about it. She's crazy. (which Judi NEVER calls people crazy) She also said you tried to jump her and fight her, and had the white people in the waiting room helping you."
WHAT?! Jump her?! Fight her?! What?
Now, today is Friday. Her father is still in the hospital. Every night this week, they have walked by my windows in the waiting room, staring me down. I go to the cafe, and they are there, staring me down, pointing at me, talking about me. I sit in the main lobby to catch a 5 minute break, and they stop and stare at me. Does anyone else see something wrong with this picture? I can't wait for this man to be discharged so I can work in PEACE!!! Will this work week ever end?
