I'm a government statistician, I work for the NHS as an information analyst - a senior information analyst actually, but that makes me sound old. So my job sounds pretty dull, but I love it. I didn't imagine it would be what I was doing when I was 16 choosing physics, chemistry and maths A-levels. Or when I was 18, embarking on a five year degree in chemical engineering. Or when I was 23 with my 1st class with honours Masters of Engineering degree under my belt and about to start my PhD in bioinformatics. Or when I had finished that 5 years later and could make people call me doctor. The thing is, I don't think I ever really knew what I wanted to do, except that I wanted to a) enjoy going to work and b) feel I was making a valued contribution to society in some way. And so here I am collecting and writing statistics about health and social care.
I started at the NHS Information Centre in 2007 and worked in a team called Lifestyles, we produced statistical reports on drinking, smoking, misuse of drugs, obesity, child height and weight and contraception. The reports I worked on we're always in the news, I'd hear "according to an NHS report published today ....." on the morning news and sit up in bed saying "ooh I wrote that". Just after returning to work after my second child I moved, on promotion to a team called Social Care Development. Not so much in the news, the number of people receiving social care services and how much that costs isn't as news worthy as the number of binge drinkers, the number of 11 year olds who know what heroine is or the number of 6 year olds who are obese. However it has been and still is quite stressful. Promotion came with extra responsibilities and line management - though I have to say managing the staff I do is not in itself stressful. The team has been through quite a few changes, structurally, and staff wise and now we are under resourced and have more to do. That is stressful.
So what keeps me going to work everyday? It's the people I work with. We have such a great team and some real characters. There's the usual office politics, but most of the people I work with have a great sense of humour, the jokes and the laughs keep coming everyday and that's what I love about work.
My boss is the best for making us all laugh though. While he's the same age as me and most of the guys we work with, he has quite a young outlook on life. He lives for the moment, enjoys having a laugh. He can be quite hyper and giddy and we spend so much time laughing at him. I'd never seen anything quite like it when a colleague gave him a super strong coffee. We watched it's effects unfold, as he darted about the office.
Just before Christmas he returned from a meeting in our kitchen area, beside himself. He eventually managed to tell me, between the giggles, that he'd managed to get three of his fingers on one hand stuck fast in the three little holes in the back of the chair next to him. One of our colleagues, fortunate enough to be in the same meeting was hot on his heels to recount the tale.
Boss was playing with the chair at the side of him, nodding and "yes"ing in the right places, then suddenly was distracted by something beside him, pulling his arm back a few times, he jumped up shouting "my fingers are stuck! My fingers are stuck!" feeling to need to lift the chair up with said fingers to demonstrate. There were a few moments of flapping, jumping around and yanking the stuck hand, while a more sensible colleague suggested there was washing up liquid at the sink, or might even be margarine or butter in the fridge. Eventually he yanked his fingers out, by which time were red and slightly swollen and once the fit of laughter from our other colleague had subsided, meeting resumed.
I honestly dind't think it could get better than that.
Until Boss, Boss's Boss and I had a meeting in the same kitchen last week. I sat down, Boss squeezed between two chairs, having to walk on tip toes to get passed, presumably to get his groin and bottom areas over the top of the chairs so he could pass them without having to move one. Suddenly the chair in front was moving with him, he took a small step back and chair jerked towards him, another shuffle away, and chair continued to follow. It became apparent that somehow his groin area was attached to the chair, a few expletives were uttered as he grabbed hold of the chair and gyrated his hips to try and free himself. It's a good job I was sat down as by this point I was in a fit of hysterics in a heap on the table. Boss's Boss was bit behind us, and had just joined us at the table at this point, she seemed to want to help and moved towards Boss, but then realised how he was stuck, she said a big Ooooh, and inched back, with her eyes wide and started saying errrm errrm errrm, trying to work out how she could help him, even more giggles from me, I was completely helpless. A few tugs and funky hip movements later and he was suddenly free, it appeared to have been a bit of stray cotton off the fly off his jeans (it was a Friday - the unofficial dress down day) which had got stuck between the metal bit and the wooden bit of the chair.
So I eventually controlled my laughter and the meeting commenced, but he kept looking down to his fly, I guess to check it wasn't unfastened or had been ripped or anything, all the way through the meeting, which kept setting me off again.
When I left the meeting, I bumped into someone from our team on the corridor and was doubled up with laughter trying to tell her. I'll never forget the sight of my Boss getting jiggy with a chair!
I wonder what he'll do next.
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