The Medicare trickle-down economics is no longer trickling, so the hospital decided it was time to call a meeting to announce no physician should expect a raise this year.
It's not so much the lack of a raise I am lamenting. While a raise would be nice to help diffuse the cost of a second child entering college, a third child driving this year, and another child leaving the public school system for private school, the lack of a raise is not my main concern. Financially, we will be fine. We may have to tighten our belts a little, but we can do it. Don't forget, I'm the girl who lived on Top-Ramen for two years, so I could afford to diaper my child.
I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. I'm fearing the higher-ups will implement a hiring freeze and then our family time will be locked in our current state of affairs.
What state of affair is that you ask?
Oh, you know... the one where your husband comes home
and EXHAUSTED = GRUMPY
and GRUMPY = NO CONVERSATION
and NO CONVERSATION = NO DECISIONS MADE
and NO CONVERSATION = NO CLOSENESS
and NO CLOSENESS = NO INTIMACY
and NO INTIMACY = GRUMPY (on both our parts!)
It's a full circle cycle that's running more frequently then my washer and dryer.
That's right. Currently, Doc H's department is short one full-time surgeon and he's bearing the brunt of the excess cases. From time to time, I've been asking him when he'll begin the hiring process. He always answers, "Soon."
Well, Babycakes, "soon" is here! Please hurry... get a surgeon under contract before the higher-ups can veto a new hire by pointing to the dried up Medicare well. 'Cause Lord knows the next time we're both in the mood, I don't want to have to point to a dried up vagina!