This week, from last Monday morning until next Monday morning, I’m “On Call.”

That means I’m signed up to received robo-calls at all times of the day or night if any of 100 triggers go off on one of our sites, including one java server out of 100 going silent for a second, or the world coming to an end.

Not that I can fix any of it.

In fact, my sole responsibility has been to find a place out of earshot from my relatives, here for the holidays, in the early morning or late at night, where I can get on a conference call, listen, and take notes.

Then figure out who might know how to fix the issue.

I suppose there’s a light shining in heaven for the triage nurses, private investigators, or on-call project managers like me who really don’t know how to fix the problem, but are good at figuring out who can.

But I doubt it.

The spoils go (and should) to the person who knows which salve to apply to get the patient moving again.

But, I get a kick, almost a fan-boy rush, of playing the late-night triage nurse: I get a chance to work closely with the people who really matter, who really can fix stuff. And they are very few. At least in tech, the good doctors tend to work behind the scenes, quietly.

And I get to know who they are and where they are.

I get to gently wake them, whisper in their ear, make them a cup of coffee, and point them to the operating room.

That’s OK with me.