Twas Brillig

“You’re a hard worker.  One of the best employees we’ve ever had.  With your knowledge, work ethic, and skill set, you will have no problem getting a job at another hospital.”

Kind as they are, these are not the words that a man who just uprooted his whole family and moved them to a new state wants to hear.  A man who just bought a new house, who just signed his kids up for ballet, swimming, and piano lessons.  A man whose family is finally out of limbo and settled for the first time in over a year.  A man whose “special needs” child is finally starting to get some help.

The program that he is implementing here, which they begged him to come and implement, takes about three years to get up and running.  That’s no secret.  And it’s worth it.  He can take a hospital from archaic to highly functional in three years and then he can maintain the processes and keep everything running smoothly.  Hospitals who don’t have a similar program are falling way behind the curve and won’t be able to catch up.  Unfortunately, he’s a computer geek working among non-computer people and while they want the program, they don’t understand that these things take time.  Apparently, even though they were informed of the time table from the beginning, they are getting antsy.  They want things up and running… NOW.

It’s been three months.

They’re ready to pull the funding and shut down the department all together.  But they haven’t… yet.  Right now they’re just threatening.  Constantly threatening.  And while Brian and team are making progress, they simply can’t shave two-and-a-half years off this three-year process.  He’s killing himself and receiving only criticism in return.  You can only imagine the pain and stress that this is causing him.

Brian puts in long hours and comes home tired and empty, like his life has been sucked out of him.  The sparkle and wit that define his personality are all but extinguished.  He’s too thin, too pale, too tired.  He can’t sleep, he hardly eats.  And he’s all but stopped talking to me— not because he’s mad at me or I at him, but because it would just be the same conversation every day.  Things aren’t going well.  I guess there’s really nothing left to say.

I don’t know how to help him, though I’m dying to.  I know how hard this is.  I know the immense pressure he’s under.  Four kids, one wife, a house, some cars, loads of medical bills.  He’s crumbling.

It’s so easy to glance behind, like Lot’s wife.  Brian left behind his dream job when he left Utah.  He loved the hospital system there.  He loved his coworkers.  He was working hard and having fun and loving every minute of it.  He was valued.  Adored.  It was a huge sacrifice for him when that powerful intangible something told us to leave.  But he knew it was the right thing, and he did it.  He did it for God, he did it for me, and, mostly, he did it for our son.

Sometimes, just because you do the right thing for all the right reasons, it doesn’t mean that everything magically works itself out.  Or, maybe, it does.  But things don’t always work out the way you thought they should.

Deep breaths.  Just keep taking deep breaths.   We know that this was where we are supposed to be.   We didn’t come on a whim.  Much prayer and soul-searching and research were done before we chose this job among the others that were being offered at the time.  We are going to be just fine.

But the “what-ifs” are constantly beckoning, begging for attention.  What if we’d stayed in Utah?  What if we’d chosen the job in Chicago?  What if…