Hello Missionary Medical

So how have you been?  It's almost October and I  haven't blogged since July, but there is a reason.  I've been hiding under the bed the whole time.

In the first week of July, the awesome Sister Nightingale* (and her equally awesome companion Elder Nightingale) returned home from their mission.  Missionaries going home is par for the course, of course, but this was bad.  Bad, bad, bad, bad, bad.  Sister N was the mission nurse, and when she left there was no one to replace her.  No one, except ME.  Yes, I was left in charge of medical issues until the also awesome Sister Barton** arrived in September.

Some of you are thinking, "how hard could it be?"  Obviously, you don't know me very well.

My mother is a nurse.  She is fascinated by nurse-y things like germs, bones protruding through skin, cardiac rhythms, etc.  I am not.  High school biology gave me the creeping-geekeys and whoever thought it was a good idea to show innocent teenagers what cells look like in actual life (instead of nice, neat cartoons) is still my mortal enemy.  I just don't want to know how the digestive system really works.

I think we have already established that I'm not the nurturing type.  My admonition to my children is not, "be careful, you could get hurt," but rather "knock it off now, I do NOT have time to take you to the emergency room!" I am not going to hover and wipe your fevered brow.  I will hand you a bowl and say don't barf on the carpet.

For two months, I had the nurse phone.  Literally. I had the mission phone assigned to the nurse.  The phone that every missionary knew to call for medical advice.  I took that phone and promptly hid it in a drawer.  First rule of calling Sister Hall for medical was that you had to call my phone, I was not going to carry and charge two phones and the mission nurse phone was a standard issue mission phone, which is to say LAME.  We are trying to get permission from Salt Lake for the mission nurse to have a smartphone, but apparently the mission department is a bit busy these days. But, I digress.

So after the missionaries learned they had to call me, they then learned a hard, but valuable lesson.  I don't answer my phone.  My phone has this nifty option to reply to a voice call with a text message. Well, we wouldn't want good programming to go to waste, now, would we?

The first time I replied to a sick call with I text, I felt vaguely guilty.  Not really.  I soon found out that when I texted back, the missionaries had to figure out what their complaint really was.  On the occasion when I did actually answer, I never knew what to ask.

Missionary:  I am really sick.
Me: That's not good.

But by the time they texted me back, I could already have the Missionary Medical website open and then I sounded like I knew what I was doing.

Missionary: I am really sick.
Me: Are you in pain? What kind? On a scale of 1-10? Sharp? Dull? Throbbing? Etc, etc, etc.

Most missionaries had run of the mill complaints which I could handle--or not.
"Sister Hall my back hurts because I played basketball."
"Was that non-competitive half-court basketball, Elder?"
 "errrrr"
"Yeah, I thought so.  Serves you right.  Take ibuprofen."
Seriously, it's not like the rules are just made up to thwart you.

If I couldn't handle it, then the fun really began.  All of the southern California missions have an area medical advisor, so I could call Dr/Elder Livingstone*** and see what an actual doctor would advise.  Very handy.

If it was time to see a doctor then the fun really began.  Before any missionary can see any doctor it must be approved by Missionary Medical first.  This involves a phone call.  I believe you are already aware of how much I hate making phone calls.  These phone calls weren't too traumatic though.  Everyone was super nice and helpful so that the missionaries could get what they needed.

Of course the first 400 times I called this was the conversation:
Me: Hi, this is Sister Hall from the California San Fernando Mission
MM: Oh, isn't Sister Nightingale there?
Me: No, she had the nerve to get released.
MM: Oh, that's too bad.  (long awkward pause) What can I help you with?


I told you Sister N was awesome.  She is a LEGEND at missionary medical.

Now we have Sister Barton and she is going to be just as legendary.  She is amazing.

I'm sure Missionary Medical is pleased.



*no, not really her name
**still not real name
***I presume not