Thursday, April 22, 2004

Help Me, I'm Stranded in a Chinese Fortune Cookie Factory...

One of the "perks" of working in a department filled to the brim with medically-trained clinicians is that somehow, I am the person to come to with your technology-related questions. In other words, when you can't find the icon for Microsoft Word, when your internet connection won't work, when you can't remember how to save in CarePlanner, you seek out RedPanda. And, more often than not, she has the answer.

This amuses me to no end, and didn't really have much of an effect on my everyday life until the plans for a new, web-based rollout of our favored application were unveiled. Now scads of people from scads of departments with scads of different roles and workflows need to be re-trained. Of course, my name was mentioned as a potential SuperUser (for which I would prefer a cape be issued, thank you) and Trainer.

I have no wish to be either of these things. But in the interest of Best Furthering My Career, I now find myself locked in a dank, windowless room as a Real Trainer drones on and on about the web-based functionality v/s original functionality. They are virtually identical, to the point where I'm quite sure that I could buzz along easily on my own with a one-hour demonstration (which I attended a few weeks ago) and directions to the "help" button.

But no, instead I must sit through this. Other SuperUsers argue. A lot. They argue with the trainer about whether or not she is doing It right. (Often, she isn't...). They argue about what the workflows and needs of different departments (including mine) are. They argue about what Regular Users will need to learn this application.

I do not argue. I sit placidly and surf the 'net. Occasionally, someone will look right at me and demand to know what my department thinks/needs/wants. Usually, I spout off a few intimidating S.A.T. words and explain that my department has different needs that will have to be explained in context. This usually results in someone wanting to argue with me. I find the only way I can quiet them is by using progressively more complicated S.A.T. words until they are no longer exactly sure what I am saying but are too proud to admit it, so they simply nod their heads and agree with me.

This is tortuous.

I was telling Sean this morning that the entire ordeal makes me feel like I'm back in grade school. I always would finish my readings before anyone else, and then the teacher, not believing me, would yell. So I'd read ahead. Then I'd get in trouble for reading ahead. Now, the trainer walks around saying "are you on practice exercise 2 yet?" To which I generally respond (sheepishly) "Er...I'm actually finished with exercise 10..."

I believe I am slowly going crazy....

Forgive me if this is rambling and brain has long been reduced to a form of paste.

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