When I was but a lowly grad student, I took bears to the vet hospital monthly for body fat analysis.
And one day, I got into a tiff with a resident.
I had been bringing bears to the vet hospital for almost two years, and unfortunately for me, the two people who normally helped went onto bigger and better things. So, this time, I was stuck with a resident…who had a very big ego.
Everything went smoothly, until we were finished. We had loaded the still sleeping bears into our truck and I went back to get the data. The data that would normally be ready and waiting.
Not this time.
The resident, who I’m sure was good at her job, but apparently had zero common sense, decided this would be a good time to teach a bunch of fourth year students how to use the piece of equipment that measured body fat. She was taking them through the process of how to set up the calculations…step–by slow as molasses–step.
I stood in the doorway…and because I’m super patient *cough*… I let her ramble on for about a minute before interrupting her and calmly *cough* explaining to her that it was not appropriate to make us wait because we had GRIZZLY BEARS with us. GRIZZLY BEARS that would wake up in minutes! I suggested it might be more appropriate to use, oh I don’t know, a dog or cat as a teaching tool.
She scowled then finished the data analysis, printed it out and handed to me…still scowling.
When I got back to the truck, I said to my advisor, “FYI, I yelled at the resident because she was taking her sweet ass time teaching students how to use the DEXA.”
He nodded and said, “I wondered what took you so long.”
Later that day, I had a message on my voicemail from said resident, yelling at me and demanding an apology. Several minutes after listening to her long-winded message and wondering what I should do, my advisor sauntered into my office.
“Your favorite resident left a message on my machine,” he said. “She wanted me to know how unprofessional you were and that she expects verbal and written apologies. She also wanted me to tell you that you are but a grad student. She’s a doctor and you had no right to speak to her that way, especially in front of her students.”
She had a point, and if my advisor, who I had (and still have) the utmost respect for, wanted me to apologize, I would…*gulp*
“So…I should call her?”
“I already did,” he said. “I told her she was an idiot. I don’t think she’s expecting an apology anymore.
Did I mention how much I respected my advisor?
