My urgent care provider opens at 8:00 AM which I don't consider early since it's called urgent care which implies one needs medical attention before or after one's regular physician's hours. That day I'd been waiting anxiously at home since 5:30 AM. I arrived promptly at 7:55 for reasons which shall remain confidential and are unrelated to this post. I was the second person in line (8:01 to be precise) and we both had to fill out new patient forms. So far the two of us were neck in neck in the race to be seen. But at 8:00 AM there were only 3 people staffing the facility, 2 clerical workers and a health assistant, the guy, in this case, that takes your weight, blood pressure, etc. I know this because I followed them in. The other patient and I waited in silence for over 30 minutes after turning in our paperwork. Sometime after that a young man, the doctor, I presumed and the man for whom we were waiting, strode into the office and disappeared through the inner door. Then more waiting. Turns out he was a physician's assistant, no doctor ever showed up.
As I sat there I thought, albeit a little irritatedly, about the meaning of "opens at 8:00". The comparison between my job and theirs struck me. (I know I'm retired from teaching but I haven't developed amnesia!) Here, the staffers stroll in getting themselves settled before calling a name. No rush. And the person we're here to see doesn't even roll through the door until well after the posted opening time. Nothing "urgent" about this scene. No one is in a hurry except the patients. And as civilized adults we just wait and wait and wait, accepting apologies for having to wait so long just grateful to be seen after 1 1/2 hours!!!
Teaching is a little different as you well know. For one thing 8am is not that early. If school starts at 8am, faculty and staff have to be there 20-30 minutes beforehand and most arrive even before that. Teachers must "settle in" before their "clients" arrive not afterwards. Neither can we just saunter in 30 minutes after school starts. Try to imagine a long line of kids waiting calmly and quietly on the blacktop for their teacher to arrive. Nope, I'm not getting a visual of that.
Once our clients arrive they immediately begin clamoring for attention, no waiting quietly to be seen one a time. Instead they insist their needs and wants be met at once each jockeying to be first. And so it goes for the entire day, 25 -36 children in one room, each one demanding a teacher's undivided attention at some point. Mixed in with those kids are a few who require constant attention. Sometimes an emergency arises with a nosebleed, vomiting, or a child who conveniently forgets to come back from the restroom prompting a search and rescue operation. And let's not forget the ringing of the telephone with non-essential requests from the office in the midst of all this. It's like doing triage while performing surgery. A teacher's day begins at a run and ends with a sprint toward the finish line.
So from all appearances, despite protests to the contrary I'm sure, urgent care providers don't really understand the meaning of the word urgent. I wish I could explain it to them.
