What To Do When Employees Call-In Sick?

6 tips

It’s 10 a.m. Your employee hasn’t shown up to work. S/he was supposed to be in by 8:30 a.m. Or maybe your employee is working remotely during the pandemic. The employee missed a scheduled call. You send an email. No response. You call. No response. You’re annoyed. There are deadlines. You can’t have your employees suddenly disappear. The day wears on. You still don’t hear from your employee. You now have a write-up waiting for your employee whenever s/he decides to put in an appearance. Another day goes by. That’s it. 
 

As far as you’re concerned this is job abandonment and you act accordingly. Then the next day you do hear from a relative of the employee and you inform the relative that: a) your call-in policy requires the employee, not a relative, to call out and b) s/he need not bother coming back to work–and you’re threatened with a wrongful termination suit. Read on for the missing pieces and for some best practices as to how to deal with this type of scenario… Even though I am self-employed, I’m going to use a personal experience as an example and then we’ll go from there.

Exactly one week ago, I started my day the way I would almost any Monday. I had planned to call my mother in the afternoon, because less than a week prior, her significant other passed away and it was to be her first day by herself. Little did I know that I would end up unable to make that call. I was in front of my computer screen, literally minding my own business. It was slightly after 11 a.m. and suddenly everything around me started spinning. I thought maybe I needed to get examined for a new contact lens prescription. I took out my lenses, put on my glasses, and resolved to call for an appointment later in the day. It didn’t help. I became even dizzier.

Like many people these days, I have been working from home. I figured I’d lie down for a bit and wait for it to pass. Then I felt that awful griping in my gut. I made it to the bathroom just in time. My body was intent on expelling everything in any way it could from any opening (I’m trying not to be too graphic). It wasn’t stopping. I managed somehow to grab and drag a pillow back to the bathroom and was lying on the bathroom floor and I soon got to the point where I couldn’t even get to the toilet. Even opening my eyes caused severe dizziness and nausea. Initially, I thought it was a silent migraine (where you get all the symptoms except for a headache, which has happened with me before.) This would continue for hours.

I could hear my phone ringing, but at that point, I wasn’t sure where it was, and I couldn’t even try to reach for it. I knew at some point my mother would call, and if I couldn’t get to the phone she’d be frantic–but I couldn’t even try to have a conversation. In my faith, you’re not supposed to pray in a bathroom, but there was no help for it. “Please G-d, not now, not like this”. I was thinking of my elderly mother, who had just lost her significant other. I was thinking of my kids. “Please G-d, help me”. I couldn’t get to a sink to get water, and I knew it wouldn’t stay down in any case. Throughout the day, I heard the phone ring. I tried to lift my head and the world spun and my belly clenched again and again–and I was a mess.

Finally, I heard my bell ring. Come you-know-what-or high water I had to get over there. I slid on my belly, moaning all the way there. I called out. It was the police, coming to check on me. My son had called. Did I want to go to the ER? I told the police I was having a bad migraine (because that’s what I still thought). I told him I didn’t want to get Covid. “I’m too young to die,” I said. I slid on my belly back to the bathroom. My phone rang, only now I could see where it was. It was my mother. I answered, “Hi, I’m sorry, I don’t feel good”. I managed to get out what was happening. I asked her what time it was. “9 o’clock,” she said. OMG! I had been on my bathroom floor for almost 10 hours. From her house phone, she called my son. I had quite forgotten that during his gap year abroad he had had EMT training. He headed right over to me. 

When he arrived, he took one look at me and wrapped me in a blanket, and elevated my head and my feet.  In a matter of hours, I had become severely dehydrated. I was going into shock. Over a period of about 2 hours, he spoon-fed me chicken broth. Despite waves of nausea, I managed to keep it down. I am now, almost fully recovered, though still feeling somewhat rung out. I am exceedingly lucky — and grateful. I am told I had a close call.

What if this was one of your employees? What would you do? What could you do? Here are some possibilities:
 

This article originally appeared here.