Give what you have. To someone, it may be better than you dare to think.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807 - 1882)
Note: If you are in the business of Human Resources very long, you will experience the loss of an employee through death. This story highlights one company´s process for surrounding the employee with what he needed, providing the employees with a way to cope, and building a legacy for similar experiences to come.
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ith fall´s firm hold on Oregon, John Kester pulled up his collar and clenched his teeth. If this was any indication, winter was going to be a doozie.
He mouthed each word as he recited his list of things that had to get done today. Soft wisps of breath-clouds exhaled the words, "IPO notes, contact investors, call Glenn about the upcoming news brief...". He had not finished the list before he began ascending the steps to Cameron Community Hospital.
The place was packed. In front of the radiation department was a line of people, each with his sleeve up, prepared for the inevitable sting of the annual flu shot. A low early morning hum came from the crowd as they began to compare their resulting arm aches.
John walked past them quickly, still heavily involved in his thoughts of business as he reached the patient counter. "John Kester to see Dr. Buss." John was lucky, he thought, to have found such a good doctor in a PPO system. With a bit more luck, his doc wouldn´t be going anywhere else soon.
"Hey John! How´s the golf game?", Dr. Buss´ voice floated beyond the desk where John stood. "Hi Bill, the golf game is lousy. I keep looking for a course with a little sympathy..." Their laughter filled the waiting area. It was clear the two men liked each other.
The chatter continued as they made their way down the sterile hall, which was softened by an occasional picture. "Right in here", said Dr. Buss. John nearly gasped. He took a deep breath "Your office, why your office? Have I stepped up from the exam room?, John joked lightly. Even as he heard his words, he knew he could not hide the trepidation that he felt.
The doctor was all business now. The soft smile that had crept so easily on his face had been replaced by abject concentration. "John, we know why you´ve had such a tough time of it lately. " The doctor´s voice dropped. "I know you had a concern that you were making too much of things - but you weren´t. I want to explain as much as I can, so you will feel comfortable that you have all the information you need. " He picked up a stack of papers, "these are the results of our tests and I´d like to go over each of them in detail with you. " John´s shoulders slumped.
As he emerged from the hospital John´s head was reeling. He could not recall the test data. He recalled few of Bill´s words. But, he did remember the disease that was slowly taking him in bits and pieces. Systemic Mastocytosis.[1] It is, John could still hear Dr. Buss say, a clonal[2] disease that often begins with urticaria pigmentosa[3]. Dr. Buss was surprised that a past doctor´s visit hadn´t discovered it. John knew why. He hadn´t gone to the doctor in years.
His first thought was not of Debbie, his wife. It was not of his boys, Kyle and Drew. It was of his career. Should I tell anyone at work? If I do, they will see me differently, weaker, perhaps incapable. My God, I´m no different! They may want to let me go. They may think I can´t do my job! I know I´m better off to keep it quiet as long as I can. He did: As long as he could.
His legs ached in staff meetings. He broke into a sweat walking the hall. Something felt off. He dropped to the floor, unable to move, unable to answer the questions his coworkers fired at him. Unable...he was scared! The ambulance´s arrival started the company´s pipelines buzzing. John would be the topic for nearly two years.
Jennifer Feijee did not like hospitals, and walking down the hall toward John´s room set her teeth on edge. She liked John. He was a top-performer and a good person. He seemed to be able to live by his principles and offend few people. He was an HR person´s dream. He was solid, and caring - the company would suffer a major loss if he...no, she thought, let´s not even think the word.
Jennifer smiled as she entered John´s room. Balloons hugged the ceiling and flowers filled every flat space. These were the indicators (the "indices", as we would say in the boardroom), of John´s worth as an employee and human being.
Jennifer started with light conversation. How was he doing? How is the hospital food? Is he running the hospital staff ragged? He has a wonderful, sincere smile, she thought.
The heavy conversation came. How long had he known? It was a dangerous secret to keep because of his sudden falls. Jennifer could have helped John schedule time off. Accommodations could have been put in place. He would need a doctor´s release to return to work. It would have to include any limitations. Jennifer kept a softness in her voice, she wanted John to know she saw him as a human being and a friend. She cared about him.
Back in her office, Jennifer thought about this situation. About the law she thought she knew...yet, now - in this situation, it didn´t seem nearly clear enough. She pulled out one of the booklets she received from a recent ADA overview and read: "An individual is considered to have a "disability" if s/he has a physical or mental impairment that substantially limits one or more major life activities, has a record of such an impairment, or is regarded as having such an impairment. Persons discriminated against because they have a known association or relationship with an individual with a disability also are protected." Okay, she thought, essentially this makes clear that the ADA applies to employees who have impairments and that they must substantially limit major life activities such as seeing, hearing, speaking, walking, breathing, performing manual tasks, learning, caring for oneself, and working. John couldn´t walk the day he fell - but, he will be able to walk again. Where does that put him? What does that mean for the company? What is the legal obligation?
Jennifer knew that the company was legally obligated to provide reasonable accommodations, or at the least, modify his schedule to accommodate his medical needs and doctor´s visits. She did not know enough about this illness to know whether he would need special equipment or perhaps the restructuring of his job. She did, however, know that the company would do what it could, regardless of ADA´s requirements.
John returned to work, doctor´s release in hand. Ten pounds lighter, he looked skeletal and tired. He had, he told Jennifer, learned a great deal about his disease, and felt confident he could continue his work. What he didn´t know was that Jennifer was as relieved to hear it as John was to say it. There had been an unspoken concern throughout the company that John was not coming back. Seeing him now (albeit, thin and ragged looking), was exactly what Jennifer needed. Things were starting to look up. She created a file for him in the data base which logged his OFLA (Oregon´s FMLA), time, but kept in mind that the company would be more generous than the legal requirement, if it could.
Almost two years to the day had passed, since John first toppled to the floor in the hallway. Jennifer was too young to have heard the original rendition of the Byrds´ song, Turn, Turn, Turn; yet, today the words kept playing in her head.
A time to be born, a time to die
A time to plant, a time to reap
A time to kill, a time to heal
A time to laugh, a time to weep
It was, she knew John´s time to die. It was also hers to weep. No, not just her time...it was time for the employees as well. Where to begin? How to handle it? John was in hospice.
"People do best with the pain of someone else´s eminent death if they can help", said the grief counselor. All 262 employees sat transfixed as he continued. "Perhaps some of you have a talent you could extend to John. For instance, if you knit, you could knit a blanket for him. If you take photographs, take a picture of something you feel he would enjoy. If you bake, make the best cookies of your life! It is in the doing and giving that you will help yourself. It is in the receiving that John will feel the love."
The group began talking among themselves, teaming together to create gifts that John would enjoy. John loved the ocean - several people were planning a trip to photograph a sunrise. John loved chocolate chip cookies - the hunt was on for the very best recipe. Oh yes, there was nothing like doing, instead of thinking, in a situation like this! Jennifer was relieved that she had found such an outstanding counselor.
A time to build up, a time to break down
A time to dance, a time to mourn
A time to cast away stones
A time to gather stones together
John died on a Tuesday afternoon, wrapped in several lap blankets, a plate of cookies on the table next to his easy chair.
Experience is not what happens to a man; it is what a man does with what happens to him.
Aldous Huxley (1894 - 1963), "Texts and Pretexts", 1932