New Reality 2.0

Today is exactly 5 months since the hospital command center opened. About the only constants in my life are that I still live at the same place, and I still have an amazing group of people around me – family, friends, neighbors, and colleagues.

Day to day life includes social distancing, masking, and lots of handwashing/sanitizing. Pretty much the same here as everywhere else in the country, and other parts of the world where the pandemic is still not in control. The Portland area has (mostly) followed guidelines pretty well, unlike other parts of the state and county.

It is even more embarrassing to be an American now than it was six months ago. Clearly there are enough leaders and followers who do not “believe” in science and lack basic consideration for other humans. Enough said.

Ninety-two days until November 3. Yes, I’ve donated to Biden’s campaign. I will vote early, from the comfort of my home. Oregon was the first state to have universal vote by mail, with voters approving it in November 1998 and using it for presidential elections since 2000. Of note, Oregon consistently has a high voter turnout, and a very low rate of voter fraud. Currently only 4 other states (Colorado, Hawaii, Utah and Washington) conduct all elections by mail and California, Vermont and Washington, DC, will mail ballots to all voters in November. On the other end of the spectrum, 8 states still require a reason other than covid-19 for voters to vote by mail (Connecticut, Indiana, Kentucky, Louisiana, Mississippi, New York, South Carolina, and Texas).

Locally the Black Lives Matter protests started over two months ago. A few days ago the federal troops who invaded the area finally departed, or at least publicly agreed to depart. Not surprisingly, the violence has greatly diminished. The word invaded is correct, dictionary.com defines the verb invade as “to enter forcefully as an enemy; to into with hostile intent” and the response from the mayor, senators, congressional representatives and governor was specific requests for their departure. It is worth noting that the violence peaked when the feds were present, and it has abated now that the feds are less visible. 

My employer did many furloughs and a small RIF (reduction in force, aka layoffs). It is ironic that healthcare, the most essential of essential services during a pandemic, was financially devastated because we don't have universal coverage. Losing revenue by not doing elective surgeries and various outpatient services (mammograms, physical therapy, etc.) hurt, as did the increase in PPE use and cost for PPE items – some items that used to cost a few cents now cost over a dollar. Since Medicaid (insurance for the poor) doesn’t cover a hospital’s direct expenses, and Medicare (insurance for seniors and disabled people) barely covers direct expenses, it is especially difficult when the pandemic disproportionately impacts the poor and seniors, so the patient who do come don’t yield revenue. Long story short, many US healthcare organizations laid people off.

I was RIF'd, even though I am treating it as retirement. Because my departure was officially a layoff, I am eligible for unemployment provided I maintain eligibility (ie, demonstrate that I am actively job hunting). It wasn’t how I planned to retire, but many things all of us are doing these days aren’t exactly according to plan. Technically I was eligible to retire because the sum of my age plus years of service reached 85, which was part of how the retirement plan was structured when I started. Conveniently, and not necessarily randomly, the hospital set my layoff date to be after July 1, and I was pleasantly surprised to see that a serious chunk of change was added to my retirement account on that date. My last day of work was July 17. 

As for my departure, it was as positive as it could have been. The support I received from hospital leaders was sincere, meaningful, touching, and humbling. The CEO came to my office before it was official (but after I knew and had started preparing and doing things like refinancing my mortgage), shared how unusual the circumstance is, complimented my work over the decades, offered to assist, and then said, “I know we’re not supposed to do this but can I give you a hug.” The HR leader who came to my office with my “package” started the conversation with “congratulations on your retirement,” reviewed the information and answered my questions, and asked if she could facebook friend me after my departure. The COO recognized me at a virtual meeting with executives and directors. My boss was supportive throughout. The CEO and COO each wrote me a beautiful note, as did a valued colleague who retired a few years ago. Many colleagues were generous with their comments, notes, chocolate and other goodies, and many responded to my news with some variant of, “Who said you can leave? What are we going to do without you?” Validation that my professional contributions over 30+ years mattered, that Marla the human mattered, and that I had indeed worked for a good organization with amazing people.

So I’m now starting my 3^rd week as a retiree. The industrious part of me is trying to organize some things around the house, trying to spend 15 to 60 minutes most days doing something along those lines. The unemployed part of me is learning to navigate unemployment and select appropriate jobs to apply for. The part of me that is exhausted from the pandemic and cumulative work stress, is enjoying reading and (surprise!) geocaching. Suffice to say that I found more caches in July than March thru June combined. August is off to a good start and will likely exceed July’s total. Like many people, I have been trying new things in the kitchen and yesterday made my first batch of watermelon sorbet....it's possible that the breadmaker will get some use this fall. 

My social life since retiring has been active. I’ve gone walking (geocaching) with two different groups of people, had dinner on my porch and watched the comet with friends, went swimming in the Tualatin River from some friends’ dock, attended the monthly homeowner association “bring your chair and a beverage” social event, had weekly dinners with my father, joined friends for dinner in their backyard, and connected with a few other friends remotely.  

I’ve given myself permission to “only” play until at least the beginning of September. I do have some things I want to do in retirement – travel being the obvious one, find a good volunteer activity being another, and there are others – but some things will need to wait until there is either a vaccine or a cure.

In sum, life is strange. Like so many others, I can say that my little corner of the world is different than it was six months ago. Unlike so many others, I can also say that it’s ok. I hope things are ok for each of you, too.