head with a heart

True story.

It happened this Thursday. March 12, 2009, in Boston, MA. Don't believe me? Google it if you have to....


President and CEO of Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center, I'm thinking "smart dude... edumacated" Paul Levy, called a meeting -- the kind that's happening all over the country these days amongst similarly edumated smart boys, with far different outcomes than his. He stood before a mass of people he thought he'd soon be laying off, sending on their way into the cold, dark night.

In the days before the meeting, he'd watched the transporters--people who push patients around in wheelchairs--saw them talk to the patients, put them at ease, make them laugh. Treat them like human beings. The transporters were practicing medicine.

He poked his head into rooms and watched people who deliver the meals, making small talk with the patients and their families. Making small talk. Making them laugh. Forget their troubles. The food deliverers were practicing medicine.

He watched the people who polish the corridors, who strip the sheets, who empty the trash cans. Many had second jobs, were just barely scraping by. He did not look forward to making their lives more difficult than it was.

So, in the Sherman Auditorium that Thursday, he looked out over a sea of people -- technicians, secretaries, administrators, therapists, nurses -- the heart and soul of a hospital. Beth Israel had hired about 2,000 over just the last six years and the chances that they could all keep their jobs and benefits in a free-falling economy weren't good.

He had a bold idea: to keep everybody employed. But he needed some help and had no idea how or if it would come.


"I'd like to do what we can to protect the lower-wage earners - the transporters, the housekeepers, the food service people. A lot of these people work really hard, and I don't want to put an additional burden on them. Now, if we protect these workers, it means the rest of us will have to make a bigger sacrifice if we're going to keep everybody. It means that others--those at the "top"--will have to give up more of their salary or benefits."

The words had barely crossed his lips when the auditorium erupted in thunderous, heartfelt, sustained applause.

CEO Levy stood and felt the sheer power of it rush over him, like a massive wave. His eyes welled and his throat tightened so much that he didn't think he could continue. It was not what he expected. The lump had barely left his throat when he started getting e-mails.

A nurse said her floor voted unanimously to forgo a 3 percent raise.


A guy in finance who got laid off from his last job at a hospital in Rhode Island suggested working one less day a week.


Another nurse was willing to give up some vacation and sick time.


A respiratory therapist suggested eliminating bonuses.

"I'm getting about a hundred messages per hour," Levy said.
______

It's primal.

Sure. People are worried about the next paycheck, worried if they'll have a job in six months... shit... next week. But a lot of them, a lot of us, have figured out that, economy aside, everybody's in the exact. Same. Boat. My boat don't rise because yours sinks. Your boat sinks? Well... here we go...

Good story.

Google it. It was the very nicest thing I heard all week.