A Spoonful of Perspective Makes the Medicine Go Down...

Dear Dr. "My Time Is More Valuable Than Yours",
 
Thank you for the opportunity to secure a 7 am appointment with you this morning. My mornings are hectic but I managed to make arrangements for my boyfriend to take my other two kids to school so I wasn't late to meet you. And to be honest, although it was super early, 7 am actually worked out well since I had a 10 am conference call and my daughter had four exams.

I had been anxious to meet you since my daughter's blood work and symptoms indicated that she may have an autoimmune disease. I was grateful for the opportunity to finally meet you to confirm a diagnosis. Not knowing something, especially when it comes to your child's health is a bit disconcerting.  Since you are the only pediatric specialist of rheumatology in this area and only in town one day a month, you can understand why I was really looking forward to meeting you.
 
As excited I was to meet you, I must express my dissatisfaction with the service I received. I'm not a doctor nor do I play one on TV but I can assure you when it comes to my business and my customers, I go out of my way to make my customers know that I care. I guess compassion is nothing anyone can learn in eight years of medical school.  In any case, I may not save lives but I help grow businesses. If I don't know my "patients" and their "ailments" or business challenges then I can't diagnose their problem nor help them find the remedy for their pain.

 
Oh, another thing...I also make it a point to properly present myself and represent the company I work for. I make certain that they know who I am and what my role is.  In any successful relationship (business or personal), the main component is trust. So maybe now you understand why I was so upset about meeting you, an adult rheumatologist as opposed to the expected pediatric doctor that I waited a month to see. Please note that the bait and switch tactic never builds confidence with prospective customers.
 
After the first twenty minutes of waiting, I asked the bubbly receptionist how long the wait would be since my daughter had her exams and I had a 10:00 conference call. She was so responsive, getting up from her desk to run to the back to find out. As a result of her actions, we were promptly called back...only to be placed in a holding cell for another two hours! Not one person acknowledged us. Needless to say, you could cut the New York tension in room 6 with a scalpel.
 
After we received a large case of lip service, we waited another hour. Finally, a nurse came in and asked questions, took vitals and then led us to the X-ray department. Again we waited and got called in. X-rays were taken and then we were escorted back to the holding cell. We waited another hour to talk to a resident who asked us the same questions the nurse did and looked very official as he nodded his head a lot. Finally after another hour, you graced us with your presence.

I can't even describe the relief I felt regardless of your pompous entrance. I didn’t care. I just wanted to find out what was wrong with my baby girl. However, that quickly faded when you left me hanging as I extended my hand to introduce myself. And what made matters worse is that you didn’t even acknowledge your extreme tardiness.  At this point, my daughter had been counted absent and I had already called my boss to request a personal day. And the only thing we got was a stone faced, ADULT rheumatologist with an attitude about our attitudes.  What's worse is that we were no smarter FIVE hours later than we were when we got there and ultimately we still don't know exactly how her condition should be treated. 

Regardless of the inconvenience, I will make sure that my daughter gets the attention that she needs.  I am not sure how other patients of yours react but I can tell you that I always try to find the positive side of unfortunate circumstances.  I think that is what makes me as resilient as I am.  I know that I will never be able to fix you nor the way you do business but I want to thank you for making me take a good look at how I interact with others and validating my best practices as a sales person.  At the end of the day, our expertise differs but the functions of how we SHOULD do business are ultimately the same.  Here's what I learned:

· Be prompt and punctual when making an appointment with anyone. Their time is just as valuable as the next guy.  Time is money, money is time and you can't turn the clock back.

· Be compassionate.  Treat others' issues as they are your own.  Business is business but at the end of the day, everyone is human.

· We all have a job to do and a role to play.  Play it and play it with passion.

· Listen and listen well.  Identify the problem and vow to find the solution.  It's about the partnership not just the transaction.  In the end, people will forget what you said and what you did but they will never forget how you made them feel.

· Making mistakes and promptly admitting it is the perfect opportunity to build credibility with your patients, customers, friends, family etc.

· I was compelled to either bill you for my time or sell you one of my "best practice" guidebooks to help you improve your approach.  Instead I decided to take your inventory and drop you this line.  I hope you find it helpful.

Ultimately, my entire experience related to my "appointment" at the children's hospital was thought provoking.  I learned very valuable lessons related to me as a business woman but the most important lesson I learned from it all was gratitude.  It turns out that a stroll through the children's hospital put it all in perspective for me and my daughter.  We were grateful to only be there for a few hours as opposed to those parents and children who have been summoned to stay there for days, weeks, months or maybe don't even make it home.  

We are fortunate and grateful for my daughter’s condition not being life threatening and treatable.  So if I need to find another doctor, then so be it.  For somebody who didn't have enough time to wait five hours on a doctor, I realize after my stroll through the hallways of the children's hospital that I have a hell of a lot more time than some.  We may not have all the answers to the problem, but we certainly have a healthier perspective on life since we met you.  So thank you!

Sincerely,

The Impatient New Yorker

I Am An American!

Each September, I am amazed that yet another year has passed so quickly and how the horror which erupted on Tuesday, September 11^th 2001 is still so fresh in my mind.  Although that terrible day slowly moves into the realm of distant history, I am amazed at how raw the wounds still are.  The emotions of anger and sadness still overwhelm me when I allow myself to think about it.  I believe that the turn of events on that destructive day will forever be embedded in my memory and has forever changed who I am today. 

Between my ex-husband’s business on the floor of the New York Stock Exchange and living in Manhasset, NY I knew most of the guys on Cantor Fitzgerald and Sandler O’Neill’s desks.  As I write this, I feel a pang of guilt talking about how that day changed my life through the loss I experienced, because it will never compare to the degree of loss that my friends experienced losing their spouses, siblings or parents on that tragic day. 

It was just a normal Tuesday.  Hailey was four, Jack was two and I had just found out weeks before that I was pregnant with Torie. I had taken the kids down to the basement to play, set them up and called my friend Jill at 8 am as I did everyday.  As we were updating each other with the fabulous details of our “stay at home mom” life and exchanging survival tactics on how to make it through the day until bedtime, my call waiting beeped and I clicked over.  It was John.  He sounded frantic. It was only 8:50 am.  I know because I remember looking at the clock on the wall thinking “Why does he sound so panicked? The market hasn’t even opened yet.”  He instructed me to turn on the television.  “A commuter plane just flew into the 104^th floor where Cantor Fitzgerald is!  All my guys are up there!”  We tried getting them on the squawk box but it has gone silent.  Pam, I think Jerry’s brother is up there.”  I clicked over to Jill and told her what had happened and that I would call her back as soon as I could.

Jerry was one of John’s clients at Cantor Fitzgerald.  John had been begging him to work for him on the floor for awhile.  Finally after months of prodding and after passing his brokers test, Jerry conceded and began working on the floor of the NYSE just weeks before 9-11.  If Jerry had not gone to work for John, his fate would have taken a similar turn as his brother Pat.  We were having dinner at Café Continental where John also asked Pat to come work for him but he insisted that he had some things to finish up at Cantor and he would follow shortly.  Unfortunately not soon enough.

Pat and I had met about a year and a half prior to 9-11.  Pat loved golf and Jerry was known to sacrifice a day of fishing or on the beach because he knew how much his little brother loved to play golf.  Jerry and Pat were pretty much inseparable except for on the golf cart.  It was me and Pat against Jerry and John so the teams would be even. 

Pat had two brothers so I think he welcomed our four hour cart discussions on life, relationships and bad golf swings.  I went to Villanova and he went to Georgetown so we were only rivals when it came to NCAA Basketball.  He was a joker.  We laughed often unless of course he wasn’t playing well. I always had to talk him off the ledge when Deepdale’s greens were rolling at a 14 and John and Jerry were heckling him as his original1 foot putt turned into a 20 foot putt and eventually a 3 or 4 putt.  He cursed like a sailor - only when he was playing bad golf but at the same time was a true gentleman, a loyal brother and a good son.  Pat put his family first and was beyond generous as he helped his older brother through law school and with the down payment on his home.  (None of which I knew about until after his death.)  He also had a girlfriend at the time.  He would talk to me about the on again off again relationship.  Regardless of the turbulence, he said that he would always take care of her.  He was a man of his word and could talk to anyone. He had a smile that could melt you and one that could get him out of any amount of trouble.  But on September 11, 2001, Patrick’s smile wasn’t enough. 

  

The last time I saw Pat was at Breezy Point on the Sunday before September 11, 2001.  I can’t explain it but it was like he wasn’t there.  I didn’t feel the connection that I normally had when Pat and I were in each other’s presence.  I couldn’t explain it until our friendship was cut short due to Pat’s untimely death.  I even asked my ex-husband about it when he had gotten home that night.  He finished my sentence as I said, “Do you think Pat is mad at me for some reason?  I continued, “It was like…“He wasn’t there?” he responded.  “Yes! Like he wasn’t’ there” I answered.

I watched the events unfold on television as I was on the phone with John.  I watched in disbelief as I saw the second plane hit the South Tower.  Sickened by the scene, I told John that this is not an accident and demanded that he get out of there immediately.  He said that he needed to gather his guys and then he would go.  I told him that I would stay on the phone with him until he left and just then I heard screaming and a loud rumbling sound.  Simultaneously I watched the South Tower collapse to the ground.  Staring in disbelief, we were immediately cut off and there was silence on the other end of the phone.  And shortly after, the North Tower followed suit.  It was then that my hope for Pat’s survival was gone.

I didn’t hear from John or anybody else for another 8 hours.  John finally called saying that he had walked up the Westside Highway and had headed for Penn Station but there were mobs of people attempting to get out of the city via train.  Again I pleaded with him to get out of there and seek solace at his brother’s apartment uptown.  Twelve hours later, John stood at our front door covered in soot with broken glass in his hair - a broken man.  Figuratively speaking, I too lost my husband on September 11^th.  As I opened the door to let him in, I could smell the debris of the Towers burning.  We were 15 miles from the city but the wind had been blowing East and as the days went on, the burning turned to the putrid scent of death.  One I can’t describe and one I hope to never smell again.  The next few months were spent attending endless amounts of Memorial Services.  Since I was pregnant at the time, I had decided to stop at number 31.  Emotionally I couldn’t do it any more.

I had an opportunity to visit Ground Zero for the first time after 10 years this past November.  I was reluctant to visit the memorial because I was traveling with my boyfriend and fearful of what my reaction would be when I got there.  Although I vowed to never forget, I also try to keep my emotions in check throughout the year.  I mourn quietly each time I catch the clock reading 9:11 am or pm (which happens on a regular basis) or on the anniversary of that dreadful day.

I had spoken about Pat before and said that all I wanted to do was see his name.  We had gone at night and I was in awe of the beauty of a place that once served as the stage for terrorism and such tragedy.  I was taking pictures of the memorial of where the South Tower once stood and then gravitated to the North Tower Memorial as I took a picture of my boyfriend.  It started to rain and we were getting ready to leave the site but not before I leaned up against the North Tower memorial and found my hands resting upon “Patrick Sullivan”.  Speechless, I pointed to his name in disbelief and relief.  I was always reluctant to speak of my connection with Pat before 9-11.  I couldn’t ever explain it in fear that people would think that I was a nut.  What we had was nothing more than friendship of course but Pat was one of those special people.  I still can’t explain it, but the inexplicable connection with him was validated even 10 years after he perished.  So we did as any good Irishman would do and went to the pub next to Rescue Company One to have a beer to celebrate the lives of Pat Sullivan and all who perished on the day that changed America.

It was the day that terrorist attacks turned one of the clearest New York days into the darkest day in history. It was the day that ordinary people performed extraordinary tasks.  It was a day of so much loss but through it all, The United States of America showed what it was made of.  For me, it was the day that all things were put in perspective.  And most importantly, it was when I realized  that I am an American and proud of it!

Where There's A Will, There's A Crown!

No. I'm not talking about a Prince.  The "will" I am talking about has to do with the purpose and the determination of my pageant wannabe ten year old.  The crown refers to the one worn by that child after competing in The Miss Wade Hampton Beauty Pageant.
Anyone close to me knows that I am a very supportive, encouraging and positive parent, however when it comes to beauty pageants, I sing a completely different tune.  I secretly curse the producers of Toddlers & Tiaras for the pageant spell they casted on my daughter.  The pageant nonsense goes totally against the grain of who I am and what I stand for.  I just don't think anyone should be judged on what they look like.  Lord knows that happens on a daily basis already.  Why subject ourselves or our children to anymore of that.  I believe that there is so much more to us than physical beauty.  And on Saturday, my Torie demonstrated that to everyone she met.

After numerous requests to enter a pageant, I compromised with her and offered to send her to Millie Lewis Modeling and Acting School.  However, the twelve weeks of classes flew by way too fast and it seemed to have in fact fueled the fire of her desire to be in a pageant even more.  Thankfully she was distracted most of the Summer due to traveling and camp but on the first day of school, she came home and told me that she had filled out paperwork for a beauty pageant.  Thinking that she would get away with it and sway me to say yes, I adamantly declined her request and flippantly said "Call your father and ask him!"  His track record had not been too great with funding anything for the past four years so I was certain that he wouldn't have the money nor the wearwithal to help a pageant queen out.  Thinking that I had put the nail in the beauty's coffin, I excused myself and went back to work.  I could hear her on the phone with him requesting the funding for her quest towards pageant royalty and I was thinking how mean it was of me to send her to a stone to get some blood.  But just then, a miracle did occur...He actually said yes and said he would call and register her for the pageant. 

And so the story of the quest for the crown lives on...

As I wiped my hands completely clean of any pageant responsibility other than showing up, I felt relieved.  For the first time in 5 years, this kid's father was going to actually take part and be present in something significant.  I can't give him all the credit though.  He is dating an awesome woman who I really like and whom I never want to leave.  She's the wife I always wanted!  She has a job, she provides him with a nice home and since she's come along, he has lost my number.  I love her for that and I never want them to break up.  But most of all, I like her because she genuinely loves my kids and she ultimately has become the co-dependent wife and pageant mom that I never wanted to be!

Torie had spent the night at her father's and his girlfriend's house and prepared for the pageant that morning.  All I had to do was show up!  And that I did.
I am very proud to say that my ex's girlfriend and I were the only women who were NOT wearing sweats and "Torie" tee shirts and holding up home made signs that said "Work It!"  In fact, none of that was necessary because Torie already knew her name, she knew we were cheering for her and she surely knew how to work it!

I am not just saying this because she is my kid but my child walked into her first pageant with the most tasteful bout of confidence I had ever seen.  She looked me square in the eyes and said, "Mom, I am going to win this thing!"  I told her to just do her best and to focus only on herself and not what anyone else does.  And that is exactly what she did and with such grace.  It amazes me that this child was so confident especially after all of the pageant jabs she had taken from her brother and sister for the past year. 

I took my seat in the audience with my son beside me and his father next to him and watched the pageant walk of forty other girls.  They varied in styles, attractiveness and confidence levels, however all were unique in their own way.  And again, those who know me will understand that I am not being mean when I say that Torie is a beautiful child but there were some drop dead gorgeous children on that stage with her.  And this is a very important point as I start my decent and land the plane on this story.

Despite what anybody else looked like, the confidence Torie displayed was jaw dropping.  I am not kidding you when I tell you that I was speechless (which is pretty much impossible).  If there was a thought bubble over that child's head, it would have screamed:

"I believe in myself enough to win that crown.  I have practiced and prepared endlessly for this day and for that reason I stand out.  I am the best on this stage, I know why I am here and nobody else stands a chance!"

And with that being said, I learned some very valuable lessons from a ten year old this weekend and I am compelled to share them with all of you:


1. If this is the start of a pageant career for Torie, It is confirmed that karma truly is a bitch because my ex-husband will be the "go to" guy for those requests.  Like I said, my only responsibility is to show up. 

2. It's not only about how good you look but how good you feel and that's what translates!

3.  If you want something so bad, go for it.  Passion is a requirement for attaining any goal.

4. Don't waste your energy trying to put the nail in the coffin of anyone's  dreams.  If they want it bad enough, nobody will be able to stop them because where there's a will, there's a way and in Torie's case - there is a crown!