North County Water & Sports Therapy Center September 2019


(858) 675-1133 |

15373 Innovation Dr. #175 | San Diego, CA 92128 | (858) 675-1133 12171 World Trade Dr. | San Diego, CA 92128

I got my first real job at our local pizza place in Milford, New Hampshire. Before that, I had a few misadventures in babysitting, but the less said about those, the better. I was 15 years old when I started at the pizza place, and, as far as first jobs go, it was a great one. My summer spent working there was a great time and taught me a few lessons I remember to this day. One thing I appreciated about the pizza place was they had you do a bit of everything. The deli slicer was off limits — I was too young for that — but I did everything else, including cooking and working the register. It was a small place, the kind where you know almost every customer by name, so we didn’t really have to deal with any wild incidents. All in all, there was nothing to complain about. It didn’t hurt that my best friend had a job at the ice cream shop next door, either. You can probably imagine how much pizza and ice cream we ate that summer. While I never ended up traveling to Naples in hopes of becoming a world famous pizzaiola, I learned plenty on the job. We had a thriving lunch crowd who mostly ordered subs or grinders or hoagies or whatever-you-call-ems. At dinner, pizza was the most popular order. We had to set ourselves up to be as efficient as possible for each service, which required establishing an order of operations. Everyone had to stay on task and perform, or things would go haywire in a hurry. Long before hangry was a word, we knew the surest way to make people angry was to keep them waiting. It was also my first experience with how frustrating it can be to work with somebody who’s lackadaisical and doesn’t care about their work. That summer, I worked with a guy who fit the slacker stereotype perfectly. I remember watching him loafing around and thinking, “I’m never going to be that guy. How can he even bear it?” While that was probably an early sign of my neurosis as much as anything, it does demonstrate how important it is for everyone on a team to work together. MEMORIES OF MY EARLIEST JOBS A SLICE OF WORKING LIFE

By the next summer, I had already changed career paths and began working at a nursing home as a nurse’s aide. I made $7 an hour in the ‘80s, which is nothing to scoff at when you’re 16. That was a great job, and it taught me how the little things can make a big difference. As some of you may know, older adults can be, umm, particular. One resident insisted her tissue box sit at a perfect 45-degree angle on her nightstand. While other aides tried to explain to her that it didn’t matter, I realized it made her happy. Who cares if it made no difference? Sometimes, providing good service amounts to making people feel comfortable. Obviously, my second official work experience is closer to what I do now than my first, but, in a strange way, they both influence how I run a practice. Patient care comes first at North County, but we also strive to be operationally sound. In some sense, providing a great patient experience relies on understanding systems. When done right, the two go hand in hand.

–Beth Scalone

1 (858) 675-1133

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