Dear Doctor

You may not know me, but I know you. I know how your cat comes in while you are dictating, and you have to shoo it off your desk. I know that your wife just bought that scarf she wanted, and that she is making a roast for dinner. I know that you have children who interrupt you when you're dictating, and you get really frustrated telling them to play in the other room. I know when you are sick, and I know when you are tired. I know when you are aggravated at your staff or are upset by a patient's prognosis. You see, I know you so well that I know what you are going say before you say it. I make it my job to know you because by knowing you, I can interpret mumbled words when you're yawning. I know your routine, how you order tests, what meds you like to use, how you dictate your notes and what is missing, and by knowing you, I can help identify mistakes and mark them. Why? Because I know you. Would you like to know about me?

I've been the MT who has faithfully and loyally served you for years. I have stayed up until 3 a.m. doing your notes because you held them for two days or dumped them all on a weekend. I am the MT who will research a med for 20 minutes that you didn't even come close to saying correctly. I am the MT who will exhaust all efforts by looking through dozens of files to make sure something is correct. I am the MT who really cares that you get your note back on a timely basis, a note that has good quality, because I care about the patient. I am the MT who has taken pride in her job.

I am the MT who can't sleep at night because I don't know how I'm going to pay the mortgage. I am the MT who watches my children sleep, tears spilling out, wondering what else I can do to make sure they have food on the table and a roof over their head. I work, even when sick, because I can't afford to go to the doctor, can't afford the meds, and can't afford to use PTO because I may need it when the kids get sick. I work holidays. I work weekends. I work whenever I am needed. I work. Because I work for Nuance, and sometimes there is NO work.

I am the MT that is forced to make minimum wage. I am the MT that is told to send you blanks because if I don't keep up with lines, I'm on a report. I am the MT who worries about that...because I know YOU. And I know you care about your patients. I am the MT who laughs when your cat walks across your computer. I am the MT who grimaces because, guess what, you can't understand what you're saying when you're eating while dictating! I am the MT who has to take a break because I've just typed a note about someone with terminal cancer, and even though I don't know them, it breaks my heart. I'm the MT that told your office that you gave a med that you had listed in allergies. I am the MT that has worked through the night to make sure your notes are within turnaround time and gotten up the next morning, exhausted, to start all over again. Do you remember me?

I miss holidays, field trips, and I don't take care of myself because I have a job to do. And I'm okay with that because I work from home, and I have to consider that part of the package for that privilege. But I deserve to make a living.

Do you know that the company who provides you this loyal MT won't let me do your notes but instead gives them to others who don't know you and can't make out what you're saying or how you like things done a certain way? Do you know how they make sure we don't make lines, how we don't have work, and how we are encouraged to give you blanks and yet they don't explain to you why you suddenly have them? Do you know this company has people losing their homes because they cannot make a living but have no other choice but to continue working and hoping for something better to happen. Do you know this company doesn't care about their employees and doesn't care about your notes or your patients as long as they make more money?

You see, I am real. I am a real person, and I deserve to be acknowledged. I am nothing special, but I am a hard worker, and I have a sense of pride. And you don't know me. You don't know my struggle. I've spent my life catering to you. I've spent my life learning to know you so I could be a better employee, so you would receive a better quality note, and you can concentrate on patient care. And though I don't know how I'm going to explain to my kids why Santa couldn't bring them much, I am still right here, loyal and steadfast, working, struggling, and praying.

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Dear Doctor - ettuMT

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