Posts Tagged ‘Canadian recruiter’

Canada, rainbow’s end, and pheasant glass

May 12, 2015

In the evening I dove east in the rain
With a rainbow out over the plain
No matter what you’ve been told
At the end, there’s no gold,
But in fall, we just might have grain.

Synopsis: I’m a Family Practitioner from Sioux City, Iowa. In 2010 I danced back from the brink of burnout, and honoring a 1 year non-compete clause, travelled and worked in out-of-the-way places in Alaska, Nebraska, Iowa, and New Zealand. After three years working with a Community Health Center, I am back having adventures in temporary positions until they have an Electronic Medical Record System (EMR) I can get along with. Just back from Nome, Alaska, I’m now in Grundy Center, Iowa.
I drove with the sun at my back, eastwards, from Sioux City towards Grundy Center, across flat farmland dotted with wind turbines. The dramatic clouds in front of me contrasted with the sunshine behind me, clarity against darkness. Bit by bit, a rainbow emerged against the backdrop, first at the north end, then at the south, and finally arched right across the sky.

I could not help but remember our train trip south across New Zealand, between assignments. Seven rainbows graced the skies that rainy day.

I picked New Zealand over Ireland in 2011 because of the medical licensure application. Ireland’s 84-page form brimmed with dense prose, indefinite antecedents and esoteric usage despite nominal English, after a week spent on the first 10 pages I gave it up as a bad bit of work, added it to recycling, and picked up New Zealand’s four-pager, which I completed in an under an hour.

Right now I’m working on a Canadian license. The paperwork so far has been reasonable to the point of unbelievability. In fact, I don’t believe it and I’m waiting for the full weight of bureaucracy to fall across my electronic desktop.

Trish, my recruiter, has guided me with patience and kindness. We mostly talk on her days working at home. In the US, recruiters work for agencies to place physicians where needed; the doc works as an independent contractor. The agency guarantees transportation, professional liability insurance, and housing. I can’t generalize for all Canada, but my recruiter puts doctors together with institutions in need. The professional then negotiates with the employer about rate, insurance, lodging, and transportation. In the end, the Canadian recruiter takes a much smaller piece of the pie. And doctors do their own negotiations.

In the beginning, I had no particular geographic aspirations. I even considered working in Quebec because I speak French (acquired, with Rosetta Stone, last year). Later I realized that the French spelling system with its archaic silent letters would threaten sanity maintenance in a medical environment.

Alberta, Manitoba, and Ontario slipped out of consideration, one by one, for different reasons.
So over the course of the last two months, my recruiter has helped narrow my focus from all of Canada to British Columbia, and I have entered the weird world of international licensure. Each province has its own license authority, just as every state in the Union does, but they have a degree of reciprocity.
Why Canada? Not chasing rainbows. I want to work in the Canadian system, which American doctors love to revile without understanding it. I don’t understand it either; I want to experience it first hand, and write about it. In all fairness, I’ve worked the American system for 33 years and I don’t understand it.

And I have all the rainbows I want, anywhere I go. I came over the crest of a hill, and the north end of the rainbow, always retreating at a fixed distance, shone against the brown and green of the Iowa fields germinating corn in the spring. No pot of gold, no leprechauns, just gleaming yellow, and a moment later, for a thrilling second, the south end of the rainbow popped up out of a gulley.

Then, WHAM, a hen pheasant died on my windshield.

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Finding work and meeting ex-patients

April 17, 2015

The hardware she helped me select

Then noted a pain in her neck

I derived such enjoyment

At her place of employment

No charge for a three-minute check

Synopsis: I’m a Family Practitioner from Sioux City, Iowa. In 2010 I danced back from the brink of burnout, and honoring a 1 year non-compete clause, travelled and worked out-of-the-way places in Alaska, Nebraska, Iowa, and New Zealand. After three years working with a Community Health Center, I went back to adventures in temporary positions until they have an Electronic Medical Record (EMR) I can get along with. I just got back from a 3 month stint in Nome, Alaska.

I returned from Nome to Sioux City ten days ago; Testing my immediate employability theory, I woke up Monday morning with nothing on my schedule, and tried to have work by Wednesday. My time frame incorrect, in less than a week I had work lined up from the 3rd week in April until the last of September.

I don’t write in detail about these jobs until I sign contracts, sometimes not until I see plane tickets. Five out of 6 jobs fall through. This summer I’ll work Urgent Care in 12 hour shifts, from 3 to 5 days per week. And, if things go according to plan, much of my summer I’ll spend working in Pittsburgh.

I’m also talking with a Canadian recruiter. Most American docs reflexively vilify the Canadian single-payer system but few understand it. I want first-hand experience despite the fact that with one exception, every Canadian physician I’ve met hated their system.

But every day I see former patients.

At the gym, a fit-looking, slim, middle-aged woman came up to me while I sweated on the elliptical. “You saved my life,” she said, “It was eleven years ago I stopped smoking. I fist-bumped with her, genuinely glad she changed her life. Yet I believe that if my patient gets better, 80% of the credit goes to my patient, and 20% to me.

Last week at Sam’s Club, a young man approached me with the good news that he’d stopped drinking soda pop and had started drinking more water. He looked healthy.

Yesterday a former patient reminded me that 25 years ago to the day I ushered her into the world. I had the great good fortune to diagnose pregnancy, do the prenatal care, attend the delivery, and perform the well child exams. She has grown into a strong, competent, attractive young woman with an impressive array of skill sets. An asset to the city, her family, and the health care industry, I feel privileged to have watched the process.

Today at the hardware store, a staffer complained to her co-worker about knots in her neck. (She gave me permission to write this.) “I’m a doctor,” I announced, “and I can make those knots go away.” I sat her on a stool at the back of the store and put my hands onto her shoulders, finding the usual set of painful lumps, starting with the upper inside corner of the left shoulder blade, the cluster of four between the shoulder blades, along with the characteristic tightness along the back of the neck. I used a routine that I developed over the years, progressively massaging the head’s support muscles, finishing with a standing upper back crunch. She thanked me profusely.

At the end, I said, “Making your neck knots go away, that took three minutes and it’s free, but it doesn’t address the whole question of why you’re not sleeping well, which is the root cause of the problem and would take 20 minutes.” She wanted to know where I work, and I had to tell her I’m between jobs.

I didn’t tell her I so enjoy making people feel better that I quit charging for spinal manipulation. But I left my business card, and encouraged her to read my blog.