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If she kept this up, it would be a major problem.
“I see,” I said to myself.
I couldn’t let this continue this way. I had to figure out something. As I was going back to my office to figure out a plan, a hand tapped my shoulder. It was Dr. Bachor.
“Hey there, Aaron,” he said.
“Dr. Bachor. How may I help you?”
He pointed to the empty receptionist desk.
“Listen, I get that I’m not administration, I’m just a doctor, but I’m allowed to complain. McKenzie, that new girl, absolutely stinks at her job. She’s so unprofessional that all of my patients have been complaining. I’ve watched her, and she’s good, but she’s still new to this. So, with all due respect, K, I would prefer to take the calls or maybe someone else. She would be better somewhere else,” Dr. Bachor said.
I couldn’t believe this. Even the doctor was tired of this woman’s antics.
“I see,” I said.
“I know it’s not my place to say, but if you could do something, anything at all, that was different from this, the rest of my medical staff and I would thank you, sir.”
He turned around, walked away, and as I stood there, I looked around.
The geriatric ward was one of the more challenging wards to work in, and it was clear that McKenzie, as talented as she was in other fields, it was clear that she wouldn’t work there.
I swear, it was impossible to fill this position.
I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to figure out what to do.
I’d have to talk with her. But how did I break it to her that she would be fired? I went back to my office and checked the coding and billing. Sure enough, McKenzie’s was the highest compared to the rest of the team.
Could this…work? I shrugged.
“It’s worth a shot,” I told myself.
I formulated a plan, and I will ask McKenzie about this tomorrow. No, I would have to have her do this. For the future of the company, she had to take this opportunity.
Chapter 3: McKenzie
Workingatabusyhospital was a nightmare, and that was putting it nicely.
It felt like I was a puppet, being manipulated on every side. I had calls from patient after patient, demands from every single one of them, encouraging me to complete this and that.
I thought I would go completely insane, especially with how bad these people got. It was the geriatric ward too, so the most obnoxious people were there.
Older people who didn’t know the concept of patients, people who got mad if you didn’t answer the phones fast enough. It stressed me out, and I wondered if I was even cut out for a place like this.
Then there was Aaron. He walked around, observing me and how I worked, almost like he was testing me. Of course, I did my best to answer calls as best as possible, handle prescription refills, and the like. But it was just so overwhelming.
After the last patient came in, I saw one of the doctors standing nearby. He walked over, standing next to me.
“Hey there, Dr. Bachor,” the man said, extending his hand. He looked in his thirties, with tan skin, black glasses, and a shaved head.
“Hi there. McKenzie,” I said.
“Hey, McKenzie. Listen, I wanted to check on you. A couple of patients said you seemed a little overwhelmed, and I wanted to make sure that everything was okay,” he said.
My eyes widened at the realization. People complained about me.
I shrugged. “I’m okay, sir. But don’t worry about me. I’ll be all right.”
