Showing posts with label queue. Show all posts
Showing posts with label queue. Show all posts

Friday, November 7, 2025

Microstory 2535: Private Nurse

Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3
Because of the constant use of his healing ability, we believe that Landis Tipton is essentially not capable of getting sick. To put it another way, we believe that he is constantly healing himself by drawing the miracle breath through his body for twelve hours a day. I don’t know what the threshold would be, but I did have the privilege of meeting the original Voldisil who had the healing gift, and she said that she occasionally got the flu or the cold. And she could get papercuts, and headaches when she didn’t drink enough water. She wasn’t using her ability enough for it to work on herself. Still, there’s no reason to risk it, so I remain at Landis’ side while he’s working. I take more breaks than he does, and during those times, I’m relieved by the doctor, but then I get right back to my perch, making sure that we weren’t wrong about our hypothesis. After his normal operating hours, I no longer keep eyes on him, but I’m always close by; usually in the suite next door, or maybe the hallway. I’ve never had to treat him, but I do run frequent tests. I track his vitals, and ask him questions about how he’s feeling. That’s what causes the delays in the queue, and it’s something that I had to fight for. Technically, he could probably heal three or four times as many people per day than he does, but I will not allow it. I periodically hold things up to make sure that he’s okay because he won’t stop to tell me if there’s something wrong. It sucks. It sucks for the people waiting in line, and waiting for their appointment, and waiting for their applications to go through. But Landis’ health and well-being are important too. The breath does not cure stress. It’s a condition of state, and he’s just as susceptible to it as anyone would be in his position. He holds people’s very lives in his hands, and he has to slow down, or he could burn out psychologically and emotionally. Of course, he has his private therapist to take care of that side of things, but I certainly don’t want to undermine his potential issues by hanging back. I don’t overstep my bounds, because that too would stress him out, but we’ve been working together for years now, and have grown close. He knows that I have his best interests at heart, and that I’m doing this for the Foundation; not in spite of it. They want to keep the Foundation running, even when the panacea is discovered, but I’m not so sure. I know him pretty well, and I think he’ll be ready to be done, even if he can’t admit it to himself just yet.

Monday, October 20, 2025

Microstory 2521: Queuer

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Guides and Queuers are two sides of the same coin. My co-workers are there to answer questions because they are a lot more knowledgeable about how all of this works. My primary responsibility is to literally keep the line moving. We maintain constant contact with each other, and coordinate to make sure the process is physically smooth while patients transition from one place to another. To do this job, you need to have great spatial reasoning, and the ability to count a group of people extremely quickly. Has a job interviewer ever asked you that before? Did you ever study that in school? It’s not as easy as it sounds. Counting heads is just something you have to practice, but it’s vital to our job of making sure everyone is in the right place at the right time. We simultaneously don’t want too many people, or too few. It wastes everybody’s time, including both patients and staff. Landis can only heal one person at a time, so it’s up to the rest of us to make sure each next person is ready to go once he’s done with the last one. It’s stressful and chaotic, but I find it quite invigorating. The line never ends until the end of the day, but man, once we get there, it’s so satisfying. You don’t even know. One by one, the last of the patients step through that door, and you feel like you’ve completed a puzzle. And this happens every single day. Well, I mean, I don’t always have the post-lunch shift, so I don’t always see the end, but then I saw the beginning, and either way, it’s rewarding to keep people moving through that queue. Since you have to be good at counting people, and at recognizing them—so you don’t start giving people the same instructions they already heard, or asking them duplicate questions—you really see the progress you’re making. One after another; Bob, then Sue, then Sally, then Manuel. They walk up, go in, and disappear, never to be seen again. If you notice the same person too many times, you’re probably not coordinating them correctly. If you don’t ever notice the same person more than once, you’re probably not fit for the job. It’s all about balance. That’s what I tell people. I’m a balance worker. Moving lines, adjusting stanchions, filling waiting rooms as soon as they’re emptied of the group before. It’s a delicate dance that would probably make for a good show if you could see it from a God’s eye view. And I get to be one of the choreographers.

Wednesday, October 15, 2025

Microstory 2518: Daily Coordinator

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3
I am in charge of patient experience. The Appointment Coordinator is technically my superior, but she doesn’t have time to manage our department’s staff, so that falls to me. While the automated system is great for setting up appointment windows, what it can’t do is make sure that people actually show up for their appointment, or more importantly, don’t show up outside of their window. When your application is approved, you’re assigned a two-hour window on a particular day. If you can’t make it, you need to pull your application, and try again. It may sound like it helps us for people to show less urgency, but it overcomplicates the process. Just come when it’s your time. If you fail to show up, your name will be flagged, and your reapplication will be a lot more complicated. Don’t. Be. Late. That’s why we have the campground, and why nearby landowners literally built new hotels to help mitigate visitorship. I have to keep track of 2,000 people every day. The greeters will check you in, and tell you where to go, which sometimes means going right back out that door if you come before your window. I have it all set up real nice. Part of the first floor is dedicated to waiting rooms, where you wait with your group of 40 to 45 other people. Yeah, that’s right, we know how to break it down. Forty-five people per room with a total of eight rooms equals a maximum of 360 people in each two-hour window. While you’re sitting there, we may call you up individually to confirm some information, such as your financial situation. We got to keep things moving, so when your room is called, you’ll all proceed to the auditorium, where you’ll watch the orientation video. Don’t ask the host any questions. That’s what my guides and queuers are for. When the video is over, depending on the timeline, you’ll either go back to your waiting room, or go ahead and get in line. People have asked why the line is so long, and why they can’t just wait in the rooms. Well, it’s because Landis averages three patients per minute, but that doesn’t mean we record exactly three every time. Some people have mobility issues, and we experience other delays. If there’s a problem with your candidate profile, you may be bumped down to another group. That all takes time, and we don’t want to waste any of it. We don’t want Landis to be sitting there with no one to heal for an extended period of time. It’s gonna be hard, waiting through all of this, but it is absolutely worth it, because when you’re done, you’ll probably feel better than you ever have in your whole life. If everything goes smoothly, we might get the full 2,160 patients, but we usually don’t, and for that, we apologize. You will not miss out on your healing, though, so don’t fret. Any remainders at the end of the day will end up in Group One for the next day, and we might ask you to come in earlier than normal operating hours to make up for it. I know, I sound really blunt, and maybe a little aggressive, but this job is not easy, and if I take the time to be too polite and nice, we get behind schedule, and I can’t allow that.

Friday, January 24, 2020

Microstory 1285: The Boy and the Chocolates

A class of young school children was on a field trip to the mall in the center of town. There were many fascinating specialty stores there that were able to keep the children busy for hours. One sold all sorts of art supplies, while another was dedicated to music. There were restaurants of all kinds, and even a small theatre where the students sat to watch a local production of a popular play. There was also a candy story, which the students were specifically warned not to enter. A half hour before they were set to leave the mall, however, the teacher revealed that they would indeed be going into the candy store, but that they would be going in together, and in an orderly fashion. The kids were all so very excited. The owners of the candy shop were a friendly couple who liked to bring joy to children’s lives. So they agreed to a deal where each student would be allowed to take on fistful of candy from one of the dozen or so jars that they had laid out on the table for the occasion. The children were very good. Each one stood patiently in line, and waited their turn. One boy amongst them was a little different than the others. Due to a condition he had had since birth, he was rather large for his age, and he always felt a little out of place. His classmates weren’t too terribly mean to him about it, but he did experience a few jokes here and there. One thing he loved was chocolate; probably more than anyone else here. He could live off the stuff for the rest of his life. Unfortunately, when it came to be his turn, he found that he could barely fit his hand inside the jar, let alone grab a fistful of sweets, and pull them out safely. It was a rule that each child would only be able to take as much as they could in one go, but it was looking like he wasn’t going to get very many. He reached as far as he could, but the best he could do was grasp one piece between his index and middle finger; one lousy piece, and it wasn’t even his favorite kind. “Surely we can bend the rules this one time,” one of the shop owners said. “We shall pour some into his hand.”

“Only if that’s okay with the rest of the students,” the teacher said.

The boy was saddened, for he did not think his classmates would let him do things differently. But he was wrong. They gladly gave him permission, with no hesitation. After all, they had already received their own candies, and weren’t going to get any more, whether he got his own fill, or not.

This story was inspired by, and revised from, an Aesop Fable called The Boy and the Filberts.