(Start with “Monday” if you can. Tell your supervisor that having a ‘blog reading’ period on “Casual Fridays” has been clinically proven to boost employee morale. He’ll appreciate your proactiveness...proactivity...being proactional) So what were we talking about? Oh right. The medical assistant from Hades. (No, I didn’t mean the country with the horrible earthquake. I know what I’m talking about.)
I’ve talked a lot this week about medical and non-medical staff at the fertility clinic and my interactions with them.
But the one staff member who intrigued me most was someone with whom I had no contact whatsoever: "The Sperm Collector".
Well that's what I called him anyway. I know that title makes it sound like he has dozens of samples from all over the world mounted in a glass frame on his den wall. I certainly hope he doesn't.
The young man who worked at my clinic had his desk front and center outside the donation door waiting for the man inside to complete his task. He sat there patiently reading a magazine (although unlike, I imagine, the ones on the other side of the door, his magazine looked fresh and unmangled).
He sat there reading away. So nonchalant. As though someone was in there baking and would, in a moment, fling the door open and hand him a plate of brownies.
I can understand the sounds from within not bothering him. He lived in NYC. I lived in NYC.
The walls in a NYC apartment are so thin you feel like you're in bed with everyone in the building.
You take sides on their spats, you know what their kids have for breakfast, you know what pets they hide when the landlord comes by.
But why does his desk have to be right there? I think if I were that man in the room, trying to accomplish, I would want him sitting across the street.
Is he there because they had no where else in the office to put his massive one-drawer desk? Or to make sure nobody tries to barge in on the contributor?
Who would have something so vital to tell the man that it couldn't wait? His wife.
“Aren’t you done yet? I have a hair appointment at two. It never takes this long when you’re with me.”
Most likely the Sperm Collector is posted there in case the man's a klutz. If the hand-off takes place right outside the door, it won't give the guy much of an opportunity to spill his future on his shoes.
See, if I were a guy giving at the office, I wouldn't want a woman to be the Sperm Collector. And I certainly wouldn't want her right outside the door. What pressure. Yet another female waiting for him to perform.
I guess the man contributing would have to forget that there’s a woman waiting outside the door.
And the female Sperm Collector would have to forget that in his mind, she might be filling in for a lack of imagination.
If the poor guy emerges with only a few drops in the cup, a male Sperm Collector could empathize: "Yeah I know. I have sucky aim too."
While the female Sperm Collector would probably say: "What am I supposed to do with this? I ask you to do one thing. One thing. Is that too much to ask? Do I have to do everything myself?"
Listen, I gotta go. I'm going to buy a huge beach tube to put around my waist in the pool. It's easier than dieting and exercising. I'll talk with ya Monday.
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