knuckle head

Get your own knuckles at the knuckle tattoo gun.

Reid Responds

Questions/Comments from Jan for Reid:

I think it's possible to serve one's country in a variety of ways. Reid has obviously done this through several types of public service: Peace Corps, working in a medically under-served area and military service in Iraq. I'd like to hear his thoughts about whether one's sense of duty to country could be met through service other than the military.
I was surprised to hear you (Reid) say that you question whether the liberal left learned a lesson from Vietnam. In my mind the liberal left were among the first to recognize the mistakes in Vietnam. Would you help me understand your thoughts about this? As one who was part of that generation, I wonder sometimes whether all that is remembered of the anti-war demonstrations is the irresponsible bombing of buildings, etc. There is much about our immaturity during that time that is embarrassing (such as inadequate appreciation of the troops), but I also recall heartfelt sadness, concern, outrage and dedication to social justice.
I fully agree with you that those who voted for this Admin twice (as well as those who didn't vote at all) do not deserve airtime for complaints about the gov.
The bear story made my heart race. I'm definitely ordering the book and will watch for the new one.

Sincere thanks, Reid, for your service in Iraq, as well as elsewhere.


Jan, et al.

Thank you for your comments, and your questions. I firmly believe that every one has a duty to serve their country, whether or not they personally realize it. I think anyone who has traveled outside of Europe and America should have a pretty good idea as to why that is so. I don't believe that military service is the only legitimate service however, by any means. It is only one of many (I consider my Peace Corps work and my work in remote Alaska to be legitimate national service). I do think, however, that given the unique risk and demands of service through the military, we should all recognize that such service carries a distinctly higher price than any other form. No other form of service requires that you give up your legal right to freedom of speech or freedom of assembly. No other service legally removes you from the protections of the American judicial system. And, most importantly, no other service requires you to serve (to give up your freedom to say "No") even when you decide that the objective of your service is one you disagree with. In sum, no other type of service requires you to fully and legally subjugate your personal freedom and constitutionally established rights and privileges.

So while I don't think military service is the only legitimate form of service, it is unique. Other legitimate forms of service simply do not equate. In my opinion then, the answer to your question depends on the circumstances: In peacetime, all legitimate service is probably fairly akin to military service in terms of meeting our obligations to service (although even then none require so much). In wartime there is no equivalent. If our country goes to war (regardless of our support of that war) we have an obligation to serve our country within our ability. Service does not have to be combat service, but the military has two or three non-combat (support) positions for every combat position, so there is certainly no shortage of work. For philosophical reasons, I would have had a problem doing combat work in Iraq, but I have no problem providing medical care. My work in Iraq was all the more important because I believed the war was wrong. We owe our soldiers our support all the more when we have denied them and their families the knowledge that their tremendous sacrifice was at least for a noble cause.

In reply to your second question, I agree with you that the liberal left was among the first to recognize the mistakes in Vietnam, and heartfelt sadness, concern, outrage, and questions of social justice were important aspects of the antiwar movement. In my opinion however, no amount of justifiable concern for social justice trumps the abandonment of those American soldiers who paid such an incredible price in Vietnam at our behest. I’ve treated a lot of Vietnam vets who never came home from Vietnam. I’ve never treated a protestor who never came home. The embarrassing immaturity of many of the antiwar protestors from the Vietnam era may have left them bad memories and some guilt, but it contributed to the tens of thousands of soldiers catastrophically scared for life by PTSD. It is my personal opinion that the abandonment of our soldiers in Vietnam (instead of just the war) by the American public (warm and comfortable in America) was a travesty far greater than any carried out by any soldier in theatre trying to do his duty in Vietnam. However, the genesis of my comment in the interview had little to do with what happened in Vietnam, but had more to do with my experience since I returned from Iraq. I have attended a number of community projects on the war and have had many conversations on the war, many with very good and very liberal friends. I have heard way to often for comfort comments akin to “this war would end if the soldiers would just refuse to fight”, thus placing the responsibility for ending the war on the soldiers who have gone to fight at “our” behest. There is this underlying current of disempowerment and blame in such ideas. There is also this common and disturbing tendency to deny that our government is our responsibility (“he’s not MY president”). It is a denial of one’s fundamental obligation in a democracy to take responsibility for your citizenship, a refusal to take personal responsibility for your choices (or lack of choices). Most importantly, and most insidious, is that it reflects an expectation that the same people who are risking their lives in our war are somehow also responsible for risking their livelihoods, careers, and families in order to stop the war (this doesn’t even begin to touch on how silly it is to ask the world’s most powerful military to make their own decisions as to when and against whom they should unleash their arsenal). We expect them to go to jail and lose their livelihoods for the wars we disagree with, and yet we don’t go to jail and give up our livelihood as well. I think the American left has a lot to be proud of, from voting rights for women to the migration of industrial workers to the middle class. But this tendency for the left (in my experience) to expect the military to risk their lives for wars we agree with, and risk their incarceration, their careers, and family welfare for wars we don’t agree with, all while we take no personal risk at all, is a tendency that should have been shamed out of us in the Vietnam era.

Those are long opinions for a short questions, and I appreciate your asking.

Reid Kincaid: Bear Whisperer, Alaskan Medicine Man and Army Doc

Where did you grow up? And what were your childhood premonitions regarding your future occupation? How old are you now?

I grew up a military brat. My father was career air force, ultimately retiring after almost 40 years on active duty. I grew up moving a lot and always really enjoyed it. Every move was a fresh start and a new place.

I always thought I would be a veterinarian, but switched a few times as an adult. I ultimately settled on becoming a PA because it appealed to my sense of the importance of service. It was also very practical and an important type of work for living in the rural settings my family prefers.

I am 39 now with two children.

Tell us about joining the Peace Corps. Where did you envision serving and where did you end up?

I had just graduated from my undergraduate program in English when my wife and I joined the Peace Corps. It was my first full time job after graduation, but something my wife and I had wanted to do since early high school (it was one of the things we first had in common actually). It took a year to line up a Peace Corps assignment for us both as a couple, during which time I worked full time on my first published book. We envisioned going to Africa, which I suppose is the image most people have when they talk about the Peace Corps. I had only one requirement, that I wouldn’t teach. We ended up going to Poland as teachers. Go figure. Despite that, it was a wonderful, exciting, meaningful experience and I wouldn’t trade it or change it. It remains a profoundly influential experience in our life.

What forces or factors influenced your decision to change career paths and enter the medical field? Why PA over MD?

I didn’t entertain medical school except to initially research the basic differences between a PA education and practice and that of an MD. I entered medicine specifically to work in rural medicine and found that a PA education would provide me with all the autonomy and privileges I needed for professional satisfaction with one half the additional time in school and with none of the prolonged specialty training. Since I wanted to be a generalist in rural practice, medical school did not offer me enough additional training to warrant the additional investment in time or money. Having now practiced rural medicine for almost ten years, I believe my original impression has proved correct.

Tell us about that first job in Alaska as a PA. What were the logistical challenges to living and working on the island?

My first job in Alaska was the PA on Shishmaref Island in the Chukchi Sea. I was employed by the native health corporation who ran the clinic there. Unfortunately, the house we were to live in was heavily damaged in the 1997 beach erosion on that island and we had a job but no housing. Housing is very limited in many small isolated Alaskan communities, and Shishmaref was no exception. Without good housing options on the island, we had to look for other employment options. We eventually accepted a position in Metlakatla Alaska, the only recognized American Indian Reservation in Alaska. It is located in the panhandle of the state, 11 miles from the southernmost Canadian border. It is the only community on Annette Island, 11 air miles from Ketchikan Alaska (also on an island). We loved living and working there. Our house looked out on Purple Mountain, a large rounded mountain which turned purple in the sunset. It was truly a cross cultural experience and we had many friends and acquaintances in the community. Some of our closest adult friendships came out of our time there. The population was several thousand when we arrived, falling to under a thousand before we left (after the communities primary employer, the lumber mill, had closed). My children learned some of the local native dances, we had a boat to take ourselves to town or fish during nice weather, and we lived two houses down from the clinic. I was on call a lot, and patients would sometimes stop by and knock on the door after hours rather than have me paged, but it was a unique and familiar way to live. I could leave for work at 8AM and still be on time at 8AM.

The logistical challenges to living on the island was the lack of ground transportation. We could take a state ferry to Ketchikan once a week, or fly by float plane to Ketchikan. We could then catch Alaska Airlines flights from Ketchikan to Seattle or Anchorage. Trips to the East Coast and our families usually took 24 to 36 hours, depending on connections. We would occasionally be stranded by weather in Ketchikan (once for an entire week), so leaving the island in the winter meant keeping a very flexible schedule. Most people go their entire lives without flying in a float plane, and we took thousands of flights over six years across some of the most beautiful coastline in America. Going “out on the town” for us meant flying to Ketchikan for a couple days of shopping and dining out, as we had no restaurants and very limited grocery shopping on the island. Once a year one of us would fly to Seattle and rent a van to do major shopping. We would buy things that we couldn’t get in Ketchikan (electronic parts, computer supplies), bulk dried food and household supplies (popcorn seed by the bag, laundry soap by the tub) or things that were just too expensive locally (light bulbs, charcoal). We would send that up on a barge that would arrive in Metlakatla a few weeks later and last us for the year.

Was the experience in AK your major inspiration for your first book?

I had actually completed my first draft of the book prior to moving to Alaska. I was inspired to write the book during an undergraduate technical writing course when I was researching edible plants for a report. I enjoyed the topic so much I began researching the broader area of survival skills in general. This led to the initial draft written during our year of waiting around for a Peace Corps assignment. By the time I arrived in Alaska I had become a PA and subsequently added the comprehensive survival medicine section of the book, plus additional chapters and sections on survival skills. By waiting a few years between writing the initial draft and the final draft I was able to bring a lot of good personal experience and training to the project and, I believe, created a far better book as a result.

Can you describe your encounter with a bear when you left something important on your boat?

The bear encounter you speak of involved a trip we made to Alaska’s Annan Bear Preserve in Southeast Alaska in 1999. We flew by floatplane from Metlakatla to Ketchikan to Wrangle and finally to the Annan Bear Observatory. We had rented a USFS cabin on the island for several days. It’s a really wonderful place to visit during salmon spawning, as there are bears everywhere, all have migrated to the large salmon spawning streams for the salmon run. The observatory is a really well placed platform on a bluff overlooking one of the streams where you can look down on the bears as they fish. There are dozens of bears there at any given time, including cubs, and it really is the most incredible sight. To get to the platform you have to register with a park ranger, who calls ahead to the park ranger at the platform letting him know you are coming (all the better to notice if you’re missing). Each park ranger has a shotgun and radio. The trail to the observatory is a couple miles long, winding through the woods, along the coast, and up the river. It is a pleasant and gradual slope upwards. We knew we’d be walking through the woods in bear country so had specifically packed a hand gun and bear spray. About halfway to the observatory we saw a female black bear up ahead of us standing right on the trail. We stopped to watch and wait for her to move on.

She did not move on, but eventually noticed us and began walking towards us. We made all kinds of noise so she would know we were human, but she kept walking towards us. We began backing away but still she came on. She followed us up the trail for a good ten minutes, stopping and sniffing at us and growling. At one point we crossed a small bridge and thought we had left her, only to see her splashing across the stream to cut us off. I pulled out our bear spray and dug for the gun, only to realize we’d left it back at the cabin. Several times the bear charged us, coming to stop only ten or fifteen feet away in a cloud of dust.

Eventually, and for some reason we don’t understand, she wandered off and left us alone. The ranger eventually came to find us, as we had not made it to the observatory as expected. I really thought we were destined to be munchies for that bear, and all because I’d left the gun in the cabin. If I’d had it I’m sure I’d have used it.

Given the title of your book,The Extreme Survival Almanac, has there ever been an instant when you thought the moment of your death was upon you?

I’ve had several events when I thought I might have reached the moment of my death, most of them in Iraq. The several that have occurred in the wilds always involved mechanical problems a long way from help or civilization and did give me a sense of what would be good to know before during and after such an event. I used those experiences, plus many gleaned from other sources (personal interviews, survival literature, and academic resources) for developing the scope and content of The Extreme Survival Almanac.

How did you pitch your book to your publishers? What was their initial reaction?

I’m very type A about my technical writing, so I have really worked hard to have a finely polished manuscript, ready to publish. I pitched my book by submitting a standard proposal with sample chapters, including an outline. Paladin responded within three days with a request for the whole manuscript. From there it was just a matter of editing in cooperation with Paladin to prepare it for publication, a process which took about a year.

Did the tradition of serving in the military begin with your father or grandfather? Had you ever felt envious of their experiences in any way?

The tradition of serving in the military began with my grandfather, who was in the Army, although I cannot correctly say that it is a tradition. We were never encouraged or discouraged from joining the military. It is a career choice that has served both my family and my wife’s family well and elevated both branches of the family from poverty to affluence. It has come to be a tradition simply because recurrent generations have chosen, for very different reasons, to serve. For some it has been simply economic, for others a form of public service. My father is a retired Air Force Colonel who spent 40 years working his way up from private. He served all over during his career, including service and receipt of a bronze star during the Vietnam war. My brother spent ten years in the air force before becoming an Army officer practicing law. He earned a bronze star in Iraq in 2006. I never felt envious of their experiences as my father worked in aircraft maintenance and my brother in aircraft maintenance and then law. None of these professions interested me.

Describe your decision to join of the Army Reserves. Did your disposition towards service change after September 11th 2001?

I have never served in the active duty military except when I was mobilized to Iraq in 2003 as a battalion medical officer for an engineering battalion in Operation Enduring Freedom II. I joined the military strictly out of a conviction that military service is both an obligation and a form of service and not for economic reasons. I did not wish to join the active duty military but simply wanted to make my skills available if needed. The reserves were perfect for me, as it allowed me to continue with my chosen profession and lifestyle until I was needed and not before. I joined the Army Reserve well over a year before September 11, 2001. I joined the military after completing my education and settling down in one place for the first time in my adult life. I had considered it for some years as a personal responsibility, but was not in a position to do so until early 2000. I joined the Army because the Army needs medical personnel like the air force needs mechanics. If I was called to duty I wanted to be sure it was because I was truly needed, and felt that was most likely in the service most in need of my skills.

My stance before, during, and since 911 remains unchanged: we as individuals have a duty to serve our country in a significant way in exchange for the incredible bounty and opportunity in which we live. I’ve traveled enough to know what I have. My children share that bounty because others pay the price to keep it available. History would suggest that the loss of any sense of responsibility for the affluence of our lives in this country does not bode well for our future.

There are many valid ways to serve, but you cannot serve incidentally. And even those who serve regularly and with great dedication but without military service should be willing to acknowledge the unique risk taken by those who choose to defend (regardless of why they chose to defend). It’s a lesson I hope Americans learned after Vietnam. I think the general American population did, for the most part, learn that lesson, but I’m not so sure about the political left (of which I am proudly a part). In a democracy, you don’t get to blame the government for bad political decisions (particularly when you elect that government twice). Ultimately the population bears the moral responsibility for the performance of its government. Many Americans still find it easier to hold the military responsible for choices made by the voting public, either by not voting, voting in favor of wars they would never be willing to fight themselves, or by voting against war but risking nothing to help end the war early.

Can you provide a window into your psyche prior to leaving for Iraq. How did this effect your family?

I joined [the Army Reserves] to serve my country if needed. Clearly I was needed once America made the decision to go to war, but I did not choose to join knowing I would be deployed. It was and is always a risk of course, but for me the decision was always clear cut as a medical provider. There is never a moral conflict in providing medical care during wartime, even during a war in which I strongly disagree, and the uniqueness of my skill set carries with it an added responsibility during wartime - to ensure that our soldiers are not left begging for the people needed to bring them home. We owe it to our soldiers to provide them the best chance of coming home alive and healthy, particularly if we have been careless enough to send them off to an unjust war. It is our responsibility as voters and as the decision makers for war that we maximize the chance that our defenders come home safely. My family has paid a very high price for my service, and I’m not convinced most Americans give a damn one way or another, but of all the things I have done or tried to do with my life, I am most proud of my service in Iraq.

As a Physician Assistant, in what capacity were you utilized during the beginning of your service? Did your role evolve over time or stay the same?

I was deployed as a battalion medical officer but my role evolved significantly once I arrived in Iraq. I was always the primary medical provider for my battalion, responsible for all premobilization and mobilization healthcare and health management. I did take on additional responsibilities during my tour by acting as medical officer for an additional engineering battalion and as a medical provider for a level two field clinic collocated with my battalion. Job descriptions don’t always reflect a persons strengths or weaknesses. I found that soldiers ultimately judge you not by your rank or college degree but by how well you do your job both as a soldier and as a professional. I can’t say I was treated like or unlike other medical providers, only that I tried to be the best field medical provider I could be and that had nothing to do with my job description, my rank, or my professional certification. I considered good soldiering to be secondary to my mission as a medical provider, but I did try to do both well.

Did you ever see combat in the field or did you mostly see the results of combat?

I did not see any direct combat as I was located in a military semipermanent camp. I performed numerous convoys in support of both medical and non medical missions, and was subject to both direct and indirect small arms and aerial projectile fire, but was not a direct combatant. My work involved direct combat medicine and standard field care for combatants and noncombatants, civilian and military, contractor and soldier. During my experience, most casualties were from roadside bombs.

We have been spoon fed news about this war through an unreliable press. What are your thoughts on the media's portrayal of Iraq?

I believe the news media has consistently failed to illustrate anything even remotely notable in terms of progress or improvements in Iraq and did so consistently during my deployment. I don’t really think this is a relevant argument however, as I believe it is a point of view that, while true, is only reiterated by those who actually believe that the minimal improvements we have managed to make on the ground actually offset the tremendous damage we have done to that country and ours, the incredible Iraqi casualty rate, or the very real injuries and deaths resulting among American and allied soldiers. With the exception of the election in 2005, I never once saw nor heard of a single significant event or program whose positive outcome for the Iraqis would make highlighting it a news priority. In fact, I saw so few improvements at all that to report them on the news would simply have highlighted the obvious disparity between the positive and negative aspects of our occupation. I would argue that the lack of good news out of Iraq has had much more to do with a lack of good news in Iraq than it did with press bias.

How long did you serve? Are you currently active?

I have been in the reserves for seven years. I was deployed for 18 months.

Were you received anonymously or with welcoming parades?

Many units return home to lots of fanfare, I did not. Because I was “cross-leveled” from my own unit to a Hawaii unit, I returned alone to Maine and was greeted only by my family and one member of the hospital staff where I work, a gesture for which I am exceedingly grateful.

It has now been a few years since you’ve been back. What was or has been the most challenging part of transitioning back to your life as you know it?

Several things have been challenging, but I would have to say that one of the most challenging is living with the constant reminder that for most Americans this war, for which good men and women are dying and suffering daily, is so academic for most Americans. The only problem with an all-volunteer military is that it allows people who would never consider sacrificing themselves to send others to sacrifice in their place. By removing the threat of real personal consequences from the general population we have empowered them to be careless with the lives of others. For most Americans, this war is a newsclip. For those sent to fight it, it is a real and lasting sacrifice. I am on one side of this equation, and I still have a hard time reconciling with the other.

Is there any possibility you could be called up to serve another tour?

Yes. I remain a member of a regular reserve hospital unit so am subject to redeployment.

Do you plan on publishing another book anytime soon?

Yes, four actually. I am about halfway through a large project for Paladin Press on combat medicine.

I'm sure readers will want to know if you are willing to share your Taco Pie recipe?

Just ask. It’s so simple it would be a crime to keep it secret.

Changing Tune

As many of you have noticed, entries for this blog are about as consistent as Haley's Comet. I've thought endlessly about why this is and have come up with a few answers:

• I am one of the least prolific procrastinators I know.
  
• Writing is like running, until you've managed to make time for it in your daily or weekly routine, it becomes a random act.
• Lastly, I've come to this realization, it feels unnatural to write about myself. As an anthropologist at heart, being an objective observer of my fellow humans and their behaviors better represents my comfort zone.
  

So I present to you a closing episode of Amoussou:

Out of the blue, an update from the bowels of Brooklyn, New York. It has been a month since starting my new job as an Emergency Department PA in Brooklyn and have finally found a situation that is pretty sweet as far as jobs go for new PAs. The hospital is located in the Brooklyn Heights neighborhood, a mere 10 minute bike ride from our apartment in Park Slope. That 10 minute stint of pumping my calves is my 'cup of coffee' for the day preparing me for the hectic buzz of the 12 hour shifts, from 7a-7p or the other way around. Day shifts during the week are buzzing for 12hrs straight while night shifts tend to creep by like a slow roller. I see patients on my own and present each one to an attending physician to discuss a plan of care. This works well for me as I grow accustomed to the pace and clinical acuity of each case. As Suru deftly described in his comments to my last blog entry, the ER plays out like this:

"Drug seekers, hypochondriacs, and drunks all need to be sorted out from the truly sick. ER is puke, shit and blood (in that order). There's also a lot of time pressure in the ER, where you often need to see 6 to 10 patients at the same time."

Accurate, indeed.

Central Booking also happens to be a few blocks from the hospital, which means every one who is arrested anywhere in Brooklyn is sent to a holding facility to await a judge's decision , merely two blocks from our hospital. Many of them claim to be sick are sent in cuffs and in custody of two police officers to our ED for treatment. Their chief complaints range from 'I can't breathe without my asthma medications --- to--- I need a clean toilet to take a dump.' Conditions at central booking are probably on par with Abu Ghraib. It's often a challenge to examine patients who are hand cuffed to a wall and have shackles around their ankles, many of whom are belligerent and screaming for a dose of Methadone. Anything goes in the ER, where comedy, desperation and the sense of entitlement rule the air.

As this chapter comes to a close, I'd like to introduce a new theme for our curious minds. Over the years, I've found myself living in some interesting places for varying periods of time and it's the freaky people I was lucky enough to befriend who have made those places outrageous. They range from airline pilots to folk-musicians, photographers to authors, FBI agents to gardeners, surfers to soap opera enthusiasts and everywhere in between. Every other week (that's my goal) I will host an interview / dialog with one of you. In an effort to incorporate an interactive feel to this blog, I'd like to introduce each subject in the proceeding entry so that you can submit your questions and curiosities for the ensuing subject.

My inaugural interviewee will be Reid Kincaid. Reid and I met while I was on clinical rotation in the Emergency Room at Mount Desert Island Hospital in Bar Harbor, ME. He was one of my clinical preceptors and happened to be one of the best teachers I had during my PA education. This guy has had some far out experiences that have taken him to a few crazy places throughout the world. Prior to entering the Physician Assistant profession, Reid served as a Peace Corps volunteer and dabbled in computer programming in DC. After graduating from PA school in Philadelphia, Reid moved to Alaska with his family and served as a Physician Assistant and the only health care provider in a remote town near Kodiak Island. He is the author of Extreme Survival Almanac: Everything You Need to Know to Live Through a Shipwreck, Plane Crash, or Any Outdoor Crisis Imaginable. Published by Paladin Press (Jan 2002.) Available at Amazon.com. When I asked him how he could possibly write such a book, he responded saying ' after having been through each of those disasters I thought I'd be qualified to write about them.' My favorite part of the book is when he discusses the topic of how to survive a Grizzly bear attack. I will forever be grateful to Reid for always being gracious in answering my endless questions about the time he spent in Iraq as a Physician Assistant in the US military between 2004-2005. I believe he is currently working on his second book.

Please don't be shy in sending your inquiries for Reid to me as we delve back into my anthropological comfort zone. And be thinking about what makes you so freaky, after all, YOU might be next!

Y'all come back now ~ Amoussou

My New Job ---- It's a Fecal Matter

A long story made short reads as follows:

My first job out of PA school turned out to be the worst possible job I could have imagined. I basically had three primary duties. The first was as an office secretary fielding phone calls and faxing documents. The second was as a surgical tech for a highly prestigious ogre of an interventional radiologist. Lastly, and the only redeeming facet of the job was to round on pediatric patients with vascular malformations 3 mornings a week. I changed their dressings and we made eachother laugh. If it weren't for them, I would have left the job within the first month. As it turns out, I left at the end of April, merely four months after starting.

My first day of my new job was yesterday, at a Primary Care walk-in clinic 17 traffic filled miles away from my Brooklyn apartment. I was the only provider in the clinic and was graced with the presence of a medical assistant who preferred to sit with the patients in the waiting room to watch MTV rather than registering them and taking their vitals. However, it was the experience with my first patient which exemplified how things would turn out with my new job:

23 yo female patient comes into my office/exam room. We discussed her problems and I offered suggestions. Before she left, I asked her to provide a urine sample for us in the bathroom. She came out two minutes later stating "there be some shit on the floor!" As she says this, I see fecal matter floating into the exam room whisked in by a stream of water from the overflowing toilet a few feet away. That was my welcome to Primary Care.

That afternoon I was called by the Attending Physician at the Emergency Department from a hospital 10 minutes from my apartment offering me a job. What Would Amoussou Do?

Neurvous Neurosurgery

The latest segment of my unemployment saga has taken an interesting turn. Received a call for an interview from Continuum Health Partners (an umbrella service for some of NYC's largest hospitals). The woman on the other end of the phone wasn't able to specify which position this was for, indicating it was for the "Physician Assistant position." Which one of the 200 I've currently applied for, I wondered? So off I went to interview for the PA position without any knowledge of which medical specialty.

After filling out my umpteenth 10 page paper application, I found myself sitting across from an effeminate one-eyed Filipino man who cut me off during each response to his questions. After a flurry of odd comments regarding PA positions, he picked up the phone and within 5 minutes I was hustled down the street to St. Lukes- Roosevelt hospital to meet with a Neurosurgery team who had posted a job announcement 10 minutes prior.

I felt like someone had conked me on the head, when I came to I was sitting across from a maniacal looking man dressed in scrubs whose eyes appeared to be closer to me than the glasses on his face. This particular man couldn't seem to complete any sentence he decided to start. I knew I was in an neurosurgery team's office, right? Well, it appeared this man had been one of the team's experimental patients who now was on the payroll so they could avoid a malpractice suit. This guy was WEIRD. Needless to say, he couldn't provide me with much confluent information. I later learned he was one of the team's 3 PA's.

Then a very rotund 60'ish looking fellow bumped the office door open with his protruding abdomen. He apparently was interested in only one thing about me. "So, you're from New York?" Umm, no, I am from Wisconsin (to me this sounds less remote than Oregon or Maine). He then asked me the same question again, about being from New York. His Russian accent was very thick, almost as thick as his dark beard, which appeared to cover his entire body. I don't think he new of any other part of the US than NY. He then followed his belly out the door. I learned he was another one of the 3 PA's.

Next through the door was the straightest shooter of the bunch who through down every salient detail I needed to know in all of 3 and a half minutes. Apparently, I sat in the office of New York's preeminent Intervential Radiology/Neurosugery team who specialize in AVM's and Brain Aneurysms and they were looking to fill a position for their 4th PA on the team. Skeptical of new grads based on their dearth of knowledge and likelihood of leaving after one year, yet enticed by their assumed 'clean slate' marketability -- they've asked me to come back to meet the Surgeons (3) on Monday morning. I must admit, I'm a little nervous about this one. I was hoping for a little remote primary care office nestled in a fishing village somewhere near the ocean. Somehow, I find myself a few blocks from Times Square potentially peering into people's cerebral cortex with the million dollar machines. What to do? What to say? Anyone? Anyone?

Job Blah Blog

A variety of responses from my intitial entry. Yes, perhaps working is overrated, underpaid and overappreciated. As much as I feel left out of the working world, I quite enjoy having time to stroll to the Park Slope Food Coop (foodcoop.com), an entity which deserves its very own future blog, to lugg back as much organic goodies as fits in my backpack to throw into a savory Moosewood recipe. I'll miss that for sure.

Truth be told, I've turned down a few positions for various reasons, mostly due to the "shady factor". An example would be the place where I was offered $60K (keep in mind this is NYC) without health benefits. After scrutinizing this offer - I was informed the facility had plenty of docs around who could take care of me if I were to become ill. ;-) Since then, I've been offered a job in a prison as a researcher (required two year commitment and no patient contact). A Urology position with a 90 minute commute (that's one way). This left too much time sitting on a train pondering how many latex gloves I went through in a day. Sprinkle a few more 'shady offers' in there and let's call it a potpurri of perplexing positions.

However, not all is lost. I'm currently awaiting word on two Internal Medicine positions at two very reputable institutions. Of course these have a catch, too. One is at Cornell ~ sounds good, right? Three 12 hr shifts a week. Not bad. And yes those happen to be on Friday/Saturday/Sunday night. I find myself strangely attracted to this position. Is there desperation in my voice? The other position would be working on a Stroke Team with Maimonides renowned Dr. Rudolph. 3/12's during the week. Downside....night shift and very low $$. My hope is to score an interview for a position at Cabrini Medical Center working as a Geriatric Psychiatry PA. Think about the blog entries spawning from that!

Apple, Table, Penny