In order, the first was with the President of our company, next was one of my matrixed bosses, and the last was with my direct function boss. The intent was to discuss what I would be doing after my current role (managing the contractual obligations on behalf of the seller/current employer for the buyer/not now & never will be employer).

It has been made very clear that my job has a specific end date. It’s almost like being a contractor - “finish this and then go away”. But Shortman has two years left of High School, and I don’t want to worry about having to move to take a new job - at least not until he’s done, and there’s not a lot of opportunities around for Hotfessionals. Not at the level to which I’ve become accustomed.

So, I met with the big guy first. It was a very fruitful discussion which ended up with a commitment to meet monthly to discuss new opportunities. He’s only ‘held the throne’ for a few months, so the remaining piece of the company is in a state of transition as well. He has to figure out how to structure his upper echelon, and I let him know I was more than willing to help in any way I could.

The next meeting, with Mr. Matrix, also went well from a career standpoint. Again, I outlined my strengths and how I could assist in his new role. I was very professional, very much the career woman, optimistic and confident - and to a point, selfish. While I talked about how I could fit into the new organization, I focused on how my needs (stay in Michigan, stay with this company) could be met while helping the company. But again, I got a commitment that we would continue to meet on a regular basis and he would help me to ‘path my career’ to these goals. (Don’t you hate the lingo du jour? ‘path your career’ my ass.)

Then, I went into a meeting with my actual direct line manager.

(As a sidenote, this guy has a reputation of being a blustering, egomaniacal dickhead. I cringe in some of our staff meetings at his complete disregard for people’s feelings. When he disagrees with you, or you haven’t performed to his expectations, he doesn’t care who else is in the room. You’re dead meat.)

After getting a couple of administrative-type details out of the way (y’know, signatures, staff stuff, etc.), we again started talking about my longer-term goals with the company. Reviewed the difference between having a job in the hand vs. the possibility of a job. No matter the money or prestige involved. And then he got me:

Him: “You know, when this restructuring all got started, I
realized that I needed to sit down and figure out exactly how long I could get
by if I lost my job and couldn’t find anything. You know when you have a sick
wife, you need to make sure that you’ve got enough health insurance to take care
of things.”

Me: “I’m sorry to hear your wife is sick.”

Him: “She has breast cancer. It was found after she was at
Stage 4, and had mestastisized to her bones. There were tumors in 3 of her
vertebrae.”

Me: (Staring at him with wide eyes) “Oh my. What’s her
course of treatment?”

Him: “She’s in remission now, but at Easter, we were afraid
it had come back into her chest or lungs. Then they thought that chemo had
caused heart problems, but all of the tests came back negative.”

He talked about his wife, and how they broke the news to their daughter, and how now the medication that she’s on makes her so tired that neither one of them can remember the last time they went to the movies or out to dinner. He talked about how, when cancer is part of your life, it’s the first thing you think of when you wake up, and the last thing you think of before you go to bed. And as he talked, he had tears in his eyes, and he talked about how other people, his friends, had lost wives to this disease. And then he got me again:

Him: “And I sat down, and figured out how long we could last without
health insurance if I didn’t have it, and I wrote out my savings account, and my
investments, and my retirement plans, and my car, and my house, and how long
that would last at $21,000/week for chemo treatments, and decided, that I didn’t
really care. I’d give it all up to keep someone alive.”

And I didn’t know what to say at that point. I mumbled something about how she would be in my thoughts and prayers, we finished the conversation and I left.

—- So now, I have a new perspective. —-