I need to take a moment to vent about something totally unrelated to babies, baby-making, or baby paraphernalia.
This vent is about reading minds. Which is apparently a skill I'm supposed to possess, according to my newest client.
So, the guy wants a needs assessment (or NA for short, because the medical field LOVES acronyms). An NA is essentially a document saying "yo, physicians suck at x, y, and z. They need more education, so hand over your cash and we'll make it happen"
NAs happen to be "my thing." They require you to compose an argument (and I happen to be the Queen of Arguing - just ask my sister about the traumatic Scattergories games we used to play growing up). And then they require you to find information (or twist it, if you're REALLY good) to back it up.
I give the guy 3 examples of NAs I've written in the past. He says, more or less, that they're perfect. He sends me 2 examples of NAs that he would like this new needs assessment to resemble. They're pretty straightforward - a few paragraphs on pathophysiology and economic burden, a couple of identified gaps in knowledge, a few more on why the target audience needs to know this shit, and a wrap-up statement.
No problem.
He says, and I quote,
"I would like to get one on ACS.
Please note that I am more a fan of getting straight to the point and limiting the background information on the disease state, since I have been informed that information is preaching to the choir. So ideally a needs assessment we are looking for would not exceed 3 pages."
That's it.
No more direction than that.
No, "hey, could you focus on this" or "make sure to include [insert important study here]"
Not even a fully spelled-out "acute coronary syndrome"
Just ....ACS.
Okay.
No problem.
So I do the research.
I identify some gaps in knowledge.
I take my time and compose what I think is a pretty stellar needs assessment.
He takes a skim on Friday and tells me it looks good.
And I'm thinking, Awesome. My new client is happy.
I commence partying like a rockstar.
I buy a Rolls Royce, roast a goat in the living room, and do a few lines of coke off of a hooker's ass.
(okay, it was really Milo's ass)
And then...he emails me this morning to criticizes a bunch of things about my NA, including (but not limited to):
1. It's too long.
I guess by "3 pages" what he really meant was "less than 3 pages". I just....WTF....
2. It's telling the grant reviewer information that he or she would already know.
Hey, buddy, your two examples included 2-3 paragraphs of background information. MY NA included 2-3 paragraphs of background info. If you didn't like those NAs, WHY DID YOU GIVE THEM TO ME AS EXAMPLES?!?!? Again...WTF. If I wasn't pregnant, it'd be cocktail hour right about now. Aaannddd your house would probably be on fire.
3. I didn't mention a particular trial.
Umm, didn't know I was SUPPOSED to mention a particular trial. You see, what happens here, is if you WANT an article by Banihashemi 2009 in the needs assessment, you generally have to request it. Turns out, there are A LOT of articles about ACS in the world. Like, tens of thousands. Possibly hundreds of thousands. Since I was only limited to "3 pages" (which is apparently new client code for "less than 3 pages"), I couldn't include all of them. Funny how that works. Douche.
4. I didn't address the comorbidities of ACS.
Again, when all you give me is, "I want a needs assessment on ACS," I'm not going to necessarily know which aspects of ACS should be included. I didn't happen to find any gaps in knowledge related to comorbidities, so I didn't include them. Next time you want me to read your mind, you might want to fed-ex that handy telepathic helmet that you have lying around your office. Because I'm fresh out.
There were a few other criticisms that I won't go into. One was relatively justifiable, although I consider it minor and part of a learning curve that comes with writing for a new company.
But honestly, I just don't get people sometimes.
I'm a relatively smart, moderately educated individual with 8 years of experience in this industry. I'm excellent at following directions.
I'm not sloppy, lazy, or forgetful.
My writing may not be perfect, but at the end of the day, I'll do my best to write what you want me to write in a way that is clear, concise, and audience-appropriate.
But to expect me to read your mind is flat-out ridiculous.
Of course, there's only so much of this I can include in response to an email like that. Defensiveness and excuses are generally viewed as undesirable, no matter how justified they are.
I told the guy that I didn't know he wanted a few of those things, but I'll go ahead and make the changes to try to get it up to par.
As frustrating as it is, it's the nature of the job.
Writers, despite the valuable skills they bring to the table, are generally regarded as the low man on the totem poll. ESPECIALLY in the medical field (where being female and not holding an advanced degree pretty much puts you in the serving class, right between the landscaper and the dude who walks the dogs). True, I may not be able to perform brain surgery or explain the pharmacokinetics of the latest Alzheimer's drug. However, I am employed because those people who CAN perform brain surgery and explain the pharmacokinetics of the latest Alzheimer's drug? ...Yeah...they barely know how to spell their names, let alone put together a research paper.
And still, I smile, grit my teeth, and pretty much have to say "yes, sir, may I have another." Because that's how things are.
So I'll fix this mess. I'll apologize profusely and hope that this new client still continues to use me (because a PITA client is still better than no client at all).
But at the end of the day...it's always wise to treat people well.
You never know who is this close to burning down your house.
:-)
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