A Day in the Life of an MT
As told by Pat Stettler, CMT
What's it really like to be an MT working at home?
Writing a "Day in the Life of an MT" was my assignment. Since I've been an MT for almost 20 years (13 of those years working from my home) I felt very comfortable with my knowledge in that area, even though unlike many MTs I didn't start working at home until my three children had all reached the "age of reason" or some semblance thereof.
"Doing the Run"
A typical day for me begins with getting up and "doing the run" which is delivering the finished work to and picking up today's work from the clinic.
Of course I usually haven't quite finished yesterday's work when the morning rolls around, so there is always a mad dash to finish yesterday so I can begin today. I roll myself (and two cats) out of bed, feel my way to the coffee pot in the kitchen, and then (with one eye finally open) stumble to my computer.
Dr. "Zymbrekiaiaiy"
I left off last night when I couldn't find the name of what sounded like Dr. "Zymbrekiaiaiy," to whom one of my doctors had dictated a letter. A quick search of my local medical society roster and the phone book did not help solve the mystery of who this person was, how his or her name was spelled, and where s/he resided. An Internet search proved fruitless. However, a 15-minute telephone call to "411" revealed the answer to the mystery, after which I quickly printed up the work, stuffed it into the proper HIPAA-compliant folders (HIPAA is new national legislation regarding the security of the patient record) and made a mad dash to the clinic.
The Plan
I was babysitting my three grandchildren today and was hoping for a light day of work so we would have time to go to the park. When I arrived at the clinic and picked up the folder with today's work, I was disappointed to find it had twice the normal amount of work for a Monday. And, of course, it was all due back tomorrow. "No big deal," I figured. Lots of MTs worked at home with small children. How hard could it be? Once the kids arrived, I'd give them crayons to draw with, cheese sticks to eat, and plug in a movie to keep them occupied while I put in three or four hours of solid transcribing. Then I could take a break, we'd go to the park, and by the time we got back, their mommy would be here to pick them up.
The Reality
Well, it sounded good anyway. The kids arrived at 9:00 a.m. By 11:00 a.m., I had:
- Fed them all a snack.
- Plugged in a movie (after displaying the wisdom of Solomon in determining who got to pick which movie they watched).
- Changed the baby's diaper.
I sat down and began transcribing my first doctor. I got as far as "This is a 30-year-old white married female who comes in today complaining of. . ." when I was interrupted by:
- Having to explain to the seven-year-old what an orphan was and how the heroines of the movie had become orphans and why she would never be an orphan as long as I had breath in my body.
- Changed the baby's diaper.
- Realized how hard it is to get cheese stick off a sliding glass door.
- Changed the baby's diaper (no more raisins for this kid!).
Continuing Education
By 1:00 p.m., I had transcribed two reports (one-quarter of one of the six tapes I had to finish by 8:00 a.m. tomorrow morning). And, I had learned:
- One new medical term (Bekhterev reaction--I knew I shouldn't have listened to the doctor when he spelled it with a "P" instead of a "B").
- One new medication for arthritis--I called the druggist down at the corner pharmacy when a search of six different references and two phone calls to fellow MTs did not reveal the answer.
- One unforgettable lesson in why you save at the end of every paragraph in case someone (who shall remain nameless but luckily has big blue eyes and an engaging smile) pushes the button and turns off your computer in mid-sentence.
I had also learned:
- How to clean a peanut butter and jelly sandwich out of a VCR.
- Why you don't give a 17-month-old plastic bowls anywhere near a toilet bowl full of water.
- Why you don't let three children with PB & J sandwiches in the same room with a cat with very long hair.
Calls from the Clinic
At 3:00 p.m., the clinic called and wanted to know if I could find the transcription on a patient from last month. This only took me 30 minutes because they spelled the patient's name incorrectly and gave me the wrong date of visit.
At 3:30 p.m., the clinic called again and wanted to know if I could come pick up a STAT tape and type a letter and bring it back to them by 4:30 p.m. After coercing all three kids into my car, hauling them out to run up to the clinic on the fourth floor of the hospital, putting them back in my car, herding them back into the house for the 20 minutes it took to transcribe the letter, bribing them back into my car with lollipops, driving back to the clinic, taking all three kids out of the car and up the elevator to the fourth floor, then putting them back in the car, driving home, taking them out of the car and back into my living room, I had developed a splitting headache.
Long Night Ahead
I took some aspirin and was washing the sticky goo out of my scissors (lollipops and long curly hair in the confines of a small back seat do not get along), when my daughter-in-law picked up the kids at 5:00 p.m. As I gathered up kid belongings (where was blankie hiding this time?) and helped put on shoes (five shoes for six feet?), I calculated how late I would be up tonight finishing my transcription from today before I picked up more work tomorrow.
Then I hugged each child in turn, wiped a tear from my eye when the oldest one declared she already missed me even though she hadn't left yet, cleared a lump from my throat when the middle one announced, "I rubbed your kiss in so it will last longer," and felt my heart melt when the youngest one said "Bye-bye Gamma" for the first time.
Back to Work
I shut the door reluctantly on the pitter-patter of retreating feet, thankful for the flexibility of working at home. At the same time, I silently saluted all MTs who work at home with their kids. The amount of planning, dedication, patience, and resourcefulness it takes is incredible. But how wonderful that the opportunity exists for those brave enough to embark on the adventure. I was just thankful my embarking days were over.
