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More from The Awase Era!
There are so many good times, some sad times,
a few angry times and a lot of fun and
funny times during The Awase Period.
A lot of the fun and funny came from the
job! I was a night shift supervisor (NCOIC)
of the after hours facility which we called
an Emergency Room. I say that, in a way,
tongue-in-cheek because we were anything
BUT a true emergency room. Remember, this
was in 1973! *grin*
Well, a Buck Sergeant back in 1973 had about
as much "pull" as the cafeteria monitor at
your local "Pay 'n' Pack." You've been to
one of those, haven't ya?? You go and pay
a little too much for the privilege of
grabbing a tray, a fork, a couple of napkins
and piling on as much chow as you can? You
"pack" till ya puke - or at least fear that
you will before getting to the sidewalk
outside. Have you ever noticed that many
of these places don't offer milk at the
trough? You can have all the watered down
lemonaid, orange drink, cola, tea or coffee
that you can drink, but NO MILK! Guess they'd
have to add another buck to the cost of
grazing. They offer a senior citizen
discount too!! Now that's just plain silly!!
How many seniors can there possibly be?
If they've been feeding for a few years at
the "Scarf an' Barf" then they'd never LIVE
to be a senior citizen!! But it's a great
public relations thing! The guy who's at
the end of the buffet line is always a high
schooler with bad acne and a smile that you
know damned well is on his face because his
boss has threatened him... "if ya ain't
smilin', they won't like ya!! If they don't
like ya, they won't take any of this lousy
ham and steamship round! And if they don't
take that they won't be back!! And if they
don't come back, we don't make any money!
And if we don't make any money your ass is
grassed!!" So he smiles and a little
dribble drips down from one of those really
big juicy zits! Makes ya wonder.... is that
sweat? Did the steamship round squirt when
he cut.... oh, never mind!!! *sigh*
Anyway, the cafeteria monitor can be a very
powerful and influential person.... after
regular hours, when the bosses have gone
home to their cool ones and their remote
controls. Well, this "monitor" was "in
charge" of the whole danged clinic after
1600 hours - that's 4:00 p.m. to us civilians
! *chuckle* So... here we are - a three
man crew. I had two technicians, a couple
of ambulances, a whole buncha telephones
and even more loose-leaf binders which had
sheets of paper replete with instructions
on how to make every little thing work in a
big clinic after the neon sign comes on for
the night. Oh!! And I had a doc. Remember.
... 1973. Didn't matter what kind of doc
(s)he was, if there was MD after the name
then the name went on the "MOD" roster.
The MOD - Medical Officer of the Day.
The MOD is the person who is responsible for
everything and everyone who happened into
the clinic during his tour of duty. Didn't
matter if he was a radiologist (most
don't deny that taking care of real, sick
people frightens 'em! Especially kids!

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I once knew an
anesthesiologist who would get SOOO anxious
about being MOD that he'd get the shits
two days before a scheduled MOD shift and
wouldn't quit for a day after!) or a
pathologist or any other kind of ologist....
if you're a doctor, you pull your share of
MOD... unless of course, you're the Big Boss.
.. the commander! On the other hand, I
recall two commanders I had who pulled their
share of MOD. One was an OB and the other
was a GP. In other words, the MOD was "in the
barrel" and was subject to every imaginable
abuse that could be reaped upon a servant
of an entitlement-mentality population of
beneficiaries! "What is that," you ask?
What's that mean? Hey!! The guy who's wearing
the MOD hat is subject to being jerked
outta bed at any time to respond to the
whims and wrinkles of ANY person who came
in with ANY complaint. (In those days,
clinics stayed open 24-hours a day, 365
days a year and the doc had to stay IN THE
CLINIC all night!! No being called from
home... had to be right there!!!) The MOST
IMPORTANT thing.... our most pressing
responsibility was to, by ALL MEANS, avoid generating
a complaint. That brings us around to that
"entitlement-mentality" thing. What that
means simply... it's a mind-set that we
instilled in the mind of every GI and family
member... a mind-set that dictates that
whatever makes you uncomfortable (you don't
even have to be ill or injured!) - if you
are merely inconvenienced by anything at
all that seems to be even remotely dysaffecting
your personal well-being, you then have the
RIGHT to go directly to the nearest military
medical facility and shout, moan, whine,
cajole, threaten and do anything else within
your capability to make it known that you
expect the tax-payer and the ever-maligned
military health care professional to lay on
hands and heal you. Expense is not a worry!
The belief was that there was a bottomless pot of money so it was
entirely within your rights to DEMAND - no matter how inappropriate. It was thought to be well within your rights to demand that a
specialist be called in to attend to the
scratchy throat that started after work
while you were drinking your beer and
hosing down the dog. It's perfectly within
your rights to present at, oh, let's say
4:55am to have this scratchy throat assessed!
Why 4:55? Because you have to be at work
at 5 and you don't wanna go. That's another
favorite ploy that used to be around. Show
up just before you're supposed to be at work.
Count on forty other people doing the same
thing and simply lag behind... drag your
feet.... be the LAST in line for sick call
and it's guaranteed that even if you don't
get a sick chit, you won't be at work till
after noon anyway!! Oh, the sick chit!!
Those things were like gold!!
So... we
used to have generations of people who
thought that the medical care facility OWED
them good health and that no dollar would be
spared to make them Herculean! Don't pay any
attention to the fact that you smoke a pack
and a half daily and that you're 15 pounds
over-weight!
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Doesn't matter that your most
strenuous exercise is when you work your
"abs" while you're puking up the dinner that
was 4000 calories more than you needed! We
were expected to FIX 'EM! "And don't do anything
that makes 'em wanna write up a complaint
form!"
Okay... I know!! You're wondering
what the heck all this has to do with being
the clinic "monitor," huh? Well, I'm not
finished ranting yet!! Sit back!! Read on!!!
There ya go!!! Now, don't ya feel better??
Thank God, the Air Force (and I believe the
sister services too) has finally seen the
light!! The QUANTITY of care isn't nearly
as important as it used to be.
Emphasis is
now more on QUALITY and responsible use of
our resources!! What's that mean now-days?
It means that every teen who has acne is
NOT ENTITLED to be "healed" by a dermatologist!
You can't believe, and I can't remember,
how many times in my 28 years in military
medicine that I've heard demands that a
dermatologist be consulted for plain ol'
garden variety zits! Dermatologists can't
cure it either!!! Yet, it wasn't uncommon
for a parent to want specialty care when
their kid's pimples were still there after
2 weeks of doing what "that plain ol'
doctor" suggested! And we're not paying for
that kind of "demand satisfaction" anymore!!
Hallelujah!
Instead, we are spending our dwindling bucks
more intelligently and we're doing more for
our clients!! We're trying to encourage
wellness and prevention instead of
intervention after they've already had
their heart attack or destroyed their bodies
with poor lifestyles! Well, this isn't
about today, is it? This story is about 1973.
Fix 'em! Make 'em happy! Get outta bed
whenever they demand! Heal!!! How did I
fit into the picture? I wasn't a clinician
then... I was a medic. A corpsman. A schmoe!
*chuckle* Most of the docs didn't wanna
get up at 4 for a guy with a cold, so what'd
they do? They invented technicians who were
allowed to look at patients, assess the
simple stuff and give them harmless (for the
most part) medications - nothing they
couldn't have bought in the store... but,
Heaven forbid that a military member should
have to take his wallet out!! The tax-payer
is charged by law to pay his way! Why were
we schmoes? Because we stuck our necks out
(to say nothing of jeopardizing the outcome
of someone who was sicker than we medics
were able to recognize!) I think back on
those days now and it simply frightens me!
*shudder* There I go again... HehHehHeh...
okay! I'll behave!
That mentality has almost gone away!!
*sigh* and that is a breath of fresh air!
Now-days, the people whom I encounter are
better educated, sharper than 20 years ago and
are more realistic in their expectations
and are generally a LOT more informed and
responsible for their health. I think we
can thank the Surgeon General, the Centers
for Disease Control and countless other
Public Service initiatives which teach the
younger generations of Americans some of
the things they need to know to live healthier
lives! Now THAT's where the tax-payer is
getting his money's worth!!
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