Stories

Bottle Washer and Pin Cushion

My college "career" was short. I only lasted one semester and failed miserably.

I was smart enough but didn't go to class or study. I didn't do the work. I was lazy and undisciplined. 

I'm probably on the rolls at The University of Alabama, Birmingham (UAB) on academic probation. When I got the letter from the Dean, I laughed and showed it to Dad and Mom, promising not to take another course until I was ready to pass and make good grades.

Mom and Dad were not happy. My bosses, Doctors Wayne and Sarah Finley, had offered to support me financially. All I had to do was get into Medical School and specialize in Genetics. It didn't hurt that they were on the UAB School of Medicine selection board. In one semester, I had effectively blown that opportunity.

I began working for the Finleys as I started school to help pay for room, board, and books and buy Sneaky Pete Hotdogs, "Two all the way and a pint of Milk, Please."  I was there so regularly that Pete knew my order by heart.

The good doctors were prominent Geneticists who ran the Center for Developmental and Learning Disorders (CDLD) on the UAB Campus. They hired me as a lab assistant. I washed and autoclaved the pipettes, Petri dishes, beakers, and instruments, picked up the mail, helped the secretaries file, and assisted the lab technicians, students, and residents.

I spent most of my day helping the head lab tech, Paulette, the most beautiful woman on the UAB campus.She taught me the sterilization process for the equipment and took an interest in ensuring I got it right. She was the primary user; her results depended on absolutely sterile products. I had to wash everything in a special soap and then thoroughly rinse them with distilled water, wrap them, and autoclave them.

I was dressed like a doctor in surgery to do this. I thought I was so impressive in my lab coat.

Every day, I would check Paulette's inventory. I always made sure I was two days ahead.

The Residents took great delight in my interest in what they were doing. They showed me everything and let me get my hands on the process. It was fascinating stuff. When the Autoclave was running, there was little else I could do but watch them. I knew I had arrived when they let me photograph my first amniotic cells, develop the film, count, cut, pair, and paste the chromosomes. Compared to the Resident's sheets, mine were identical. I'd like to see how they do this now. Back then, we cut the chromosomes from photograph, paired them on a table, and pasted the pairs on a sheet.

Another reason the Residents liked me was my blood. As they worked on their doctorate degrees, they needed blood. I was handy and willing. I looked like a drug user with all the needle marks on my arms. It seemed like every day, someone was asking for my blood.   I got with the head resident; he agreed, "We should stockpile your blood." I became  a blood donor rather than a pin cushion. I should have charged them for all that Royal B-negative Neel Blood.

It was a good time. I did an exceptional job for CDLD, but I understood when Doctors Wayne and Sarah explained that I had to be an active student to hold the job. I expected it and had already interviewed for a job at Motion Industries.

That is Another Story.