Category Archives: Health Care

Memo to Joe Breda

Posted on by under Health Care, Loss

“Matthew – I hope you are well. I’m writing for two reasons:”

So began an email from the head of my division at work, my boss’s boss’s boss’s boss. A guy named Joe Breda.*

He continues: “First, while I know you have made a partial leave request with HR I do not have any information about the circumstances of your leave. It is not necessary for me to know any of the details, but if there is anything I can do to assist please let me know.

“Second, I want to make sure you are aware how the company’s RTO (return to office) policy applies to your situation. Obviously, you are not expected to be in the office on days you have been granted leave. However, you should be in the office – up to three days per week – for days that you are not taking leave. If this presents a hardship, I’m advised that you to consider applying for full leave. Please let me know if you have any questions.
JB”

This email arrived on the eve of my wife being discharged after three and a half months in the hospital.

Me at Johns Hopkins Hospital in February 2022.

In January of 2022, my wife suffered a ruptured cranial aneurysm. After emergency surgery to save her life, she remained in the Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore — first in intensive care, then several weeks as a regular inpatient — until late April. She needed months of physical therapy to recover, and she is still disabled today.

This was an incredibly difficult time for me and my family. We all faced hardship, stress, and worry over this entire period of time.

So to receive this heartless, tone deaf email from upper management did nothing to ease the strain.

In fact it made it worse.

Worse because I applied for and received authorization for 12 weeks of protected leave under FMLA. Joe Breda not only seemed to not know this. But also, his insistence that I adhere to the RTO requirements contradicted what I was previously told by HR, namely that those requirements did not apply to anyone currently exercising their FMLA rights.

Worse because the the uncertainty surrounding the day and manner of my wife’s discharge made it necessary for me to be flexible with my schedule, able to travel to the hospital or discharge facility on short notice. Being required to be physically in the office made that very difficult.

Worse because I was running out of leave. So Joe Breda’s glib, uninformed comment that I “may want to consider applying for full leave” is empty and meaningless.

This email from Joe Breda has eaten at me for close to three years. In all the time since this email, Joe never once inquired about my wife’s health or asked how I was doing.

His offer of assistance — especially since he claimed to not know what was going on — was complete self-serving bullshit.

He kicked me when I was down, using the power of his position, and never apologized or even acknowledged my situation.

So I now realize why this eats at me so much.

It was an abuse of power disguised as a “clarification of current policy.”

It was forcing me to concede when I was vulnerable, something that thugs do.

It was bullying.

Joe Breda has left the company and no longer is in a position of authority over me.

So I now want to take the time to say what I have been wanting to say for three years.

Fuck you, Joe Breda.

*Yes, this is his real name. A Google search will bring up some information about him, including the company where we both worked. But I won’t say more than that.

Hand Sanitizer and the Disease

Posted on by under Health, Health Care

This week I happened upon the fact that the Food and Drug Administration is updating their policy for testing alcohol hand sanitizers for the presence of methanol.

The notice rightly points out that methanol–unlike ethanol, the alcohol in beer, wine, and spirits–is poisonous. It goes on to say that “FDA became aware of reports of fatal methanol poisoning of consumers who ingested alcohol-based hand sanitizer products that were manufactured with methanol or methanol-contaminated ethanol.”

What??

Surely I misread that. Why is anyone ingesting hand sanitizer? Do they mean just accidentally licking it off one’s hands? Should I be concerned?

So with a little internet sleuthing, I tracked down one of the FDA’s sources of information, a study published by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. The study says that “cases of ethanol toxicity following ingestion of alcohol-based hand sanitizer products have been reported in persons with alcohol use disorder.”

So that’s it. People suffering from serious alcoholism have been known to be so desperate as to resort to drinking hand sanitizer.

It’s hard for me to imagine someone having so little to live for that they are seeking solace in whatever small, temporary effect one can get from consuming hand sanitizer.  These are people who need serious help, who probably have lost all connection with friends and family, and with the beauty that still can be found in life.

So the FDA’s response to this is to ensure that hand sanitizer does not accidentally kill these people.

Wouldn’t the more humane response be to actually help these people live a better life? Am I the only one who thinks that we are merely addressing symptoms here without even pretending to try to cure the disease?

Do either the FDA or CDC acknowledge this gap in response?

No.

The FDA takes a formalistic approach by pointing out that methanol is not an acceptable ingredient in any drug product and should not be used due to its toxic effects.

The CDC takes a hands-off, public health approach by admonishing against drinking hand sanitizer and requesting that public health officials keep track of times when people do.

But compassion for the down and out? No.

Much can be done in the United States to alleviate poverty and suffering. We do, in fact, know exactly how it can be done. However, we, The People, have generally chosen not to do it. And yes, it is a choice.

That says so much about us, doesn’t it?

The Enigma of Departure

Posted on by under Family, Health Care, Loss

Most of the time, when you part company with someone, you fully expect to see them again the next time.

It’s just part of how human interaction works. The expectation of continuity allows so many of our institutions, from family to employment to government, to function.

And yet sometimes, there is a high probability that you could be saying your last goodbye. Managing that is not easy.

My mother is 88 years old this year. She had a stroke over four years ago that has left her disabled and dependent. She lives in a retirement home of her own choosing in California. Each time I visit, saying goodbye requires that I both believe I will see her again and know that I may not.

My father turned 90 years old in January. Obviously, he is in his twilight years. I haven’t seen him in person in four years, for a variety of reasons including, of course, the global pandemic. But we talk frequently on the phone. Each time I say goodbye, I hope we will speak again in a few days but also wonder if I have said all that I feel I need to say to him.

My sons are both adults and mostly independent. They come and go as it suits them. All it would take is some careless driving or an undiagnosed health condition to make that casual wave as they go out the door be the last time we see each other.

My wife was in a hospital in Baltimore, struggling to recover from a serious health emergency during the first half of this year. I was visiting her almost every day. But each time I left for the day, I carried with me the possibility that she might not make it until the next day. If I knew for sure that she was dying, I would not go home. But the doctors and nurses assured me that she’d be there when I returned. I had to trust them. And I know myself enough to know that if I try to get by with my reserve of energy at zero, I won’t survive either. That helps nobody.

So the goodbyes are loaded with silent meaning and unspoken hopes and fears. There is no other way it can be. I cast all my bets on there being a tomorrow with my wife, my children, my father, my mother. And then spin the wheel.

Giorgio de Chirico painting artwork

For Better or For Worse

Posted on by under Family, Health, Health Care

Traditionally, wedding vows are along the lines of “I take you to be…blah…blah…for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, until death do us part.”

Having been through the “or worse” and “in sickness” bits more than once, I can tell you that most people, when they get married, don’t want to deal with that part and don’t expect to deal with that part.

In the hospital.

By that I mean, neither partner envisions themselves to be the “or worse” and deep down does not really want their spouse to go through the pain of having to suffer though the worst part of themselves.

I bring this up now because my wife is in the hospital, and has been for over a month, due to brain hemorrhage related to her chronic health condition. It is an exercise in patience and endurance for both of us. The relief provided by medication and proper health care (her) and an understanding employer (me) is appreciated, but it does little to alter the fundamental terribleness of our situation. 

Of course, people claim to want a spouse who will stick with them through thick and thin. But it’s like insurance. We are in favor of the idea of having it, as long as we never actually need to use it.

In reality, people don’t want that. They don’t want to face the ugliness of it, or the grim reality of it.

Because the spouse who is “in sickness” is not sexy. And the grieving spouse who is trying desperately to hold it together is not sexy. The sights, the smells, the broken body, the seemingly endless bedside vigils.

Absolutely none of it is sexy, believe me (unless you’re into that kind of thing).

Of course, popular culture would have us believe otherwise. We have movies such as Dying Young and Now is Good and While You Were Sleeping, none of which I have seen, but I’m pretty sure they gloss over the reality of what they think they are depicting.

A more realistic take on such things is a book titled Alice & Oliver, by Charles Bock. Read it – I highly recommend it.

So if ever you are tempted to think that a dying lover is somehow more attractive, or the long-suffering spouse or family member is somehow attractive, stop right there. They aren’t, and never can be.

Trust me.

Health Care and Patient Dignity

Posted on by under Health Care

So let’s say you are having a medical crisis. Maybe you were hit by a car, or one of your organs are failing, or you suffered a ruptured cranial aneurysm.

The last thing you will be thinking is “how are these doctors and nurses getting paid?”

Trust me.

Of course doctors and nurses must be compensated for their time and expertise. I can’t imagine anyone thinking otherwise.

The issue is that the dying (or potentially dying) patient is not the person who is in the right frame of mind to consider the welfare of the on-duty medical staff.

As I have mentioned previously, Americans are deeply conflicted over who pays for health care. Why this is, is a tangled mess of politics, ideology, and the degree to which one believes in capitalism.

In today’s Washington Post, the art and architecture critic Philip Kennicott has a piece that asks legitimate questions about form, function, and the element of human dignity in health care.

And to that end, he says that certain aspects of our health care system are rendered more daunting than they ought to be by the “inequities in health care, the industrialization of the process and the capitalist mentality that has made what should be a human right merely a consumer service.”

It’s that last bit that gets me.

Free market capitalism relies on people being in the right frame of mind to make choices between competing options. When you are potentially dying, your “right frame of mind” goes out the window.

So how it is that capitalists want us to rely on market economics for health care is, for me, unexplained.

Removing the market from the equation seems like the better option. If you disagree, I’m open to comments.