So I started my job today. Wow! Work is hard. I am not sure its for me.
Ok. Just kidding. Actually, I am pretty stoked about the job. What I am doing: helping facilitate a project for Medicaid that will be getting all of the medical records for the State of Florida into one electronic system (insert right-wing conspiracy theory comment about insurance companies, premiums and “pre-existing conditions”. No, Thank YOU, Glen.) Part of the stimulus package money was allocated to get these sorts of projects off the ground all over the country. Sort of a kill three birds with one stone:
1. Theoretically better care because doctors have access to your whole medical history, not just the stuff you can remember when you present yourself at an emergency room in the middle of a cardiac event.
2. Reduces waste… environmentally (less paper) and money spent on repeat exams and procedures that are done because each doctor needs to have a copy of your records/procedures/scans on file with their office.
3. Puts people like me to work. I got monehs… I save some… I spend some on things like baby clothes, dog treats, pedicures and dinners at “Food Glorious Food”, putting money back into the economy.
So right now, its pretty much just learning the lingo. Its been pretty cool so far working there (for the one day I have been there). The people are pretty nice. However, I have already been part of a debacle. I am trying to continue the whole breastfeeding thing as long as possible. Our pediatrician says that most of the benefits of breastfeeding are for the first 6 months- which means I have one more month of breastfeeding/pumping. I am idealistic and whatnot, hoping that I can keep going after the fact. But, it looks doubtful. Especially since today while I was pumping in my office one of the IT guys kind of invited himself in. Despite the fact that I had a sign on the door that said, “Do Not Disturb”. Apparently, these types of signs are completely disregarded when you’re new. So I am pumping and the IT guy knocks. I was sort of incredulous, because REALLY? THERE IS A SIGN ON THE DOOR. For added measure, I have my bag on the floor barracading the door. I ignore the knock, because clearly, there is a sign- surely they are not knocking on my door. Au contraire. I answer, “YES?” To which the guy pushes the door open just as I get covered up again. Really? Then again, someone kind of barged in as I was finished. The suggestion was that I include a little more information on the sign (Breast milk Pumping in Progress). As “Do Not Disturb” makes it seem like I am in there napping. Napping. Orly?
Not much else to report. Nico hasn’t been really into his rice cereal much these days. He’s eating it twice a day (morning and evening). Its kind of cool, because in the morning, I am usually eating oatmeal, so its kind of like twinsies. Today he wanted nothing to do with it. So I took a tiny piece of banana (about the size of my pinky nail) and mashed it up in there, for a little bit of flavor. He tried a couple of more bites, but was pretty much unimpressed. But I got a great idea- I want to start a baby food blog. Like, all the different ways you can prepare fruits and veggies for baby consumption, along with the results. I have read that the supposition that baby food be bland is actually not exactly true. That its okay to try out spices on babies- just in moderation. Guess we are going to have to move to new house, so I can start to keep Dave’s CuisineArt food processor on the counter in the kitchen. Its a lot of work to put it together now.
All for now.