...now, I walked out of the third floor satellite office of Lab Corp, having involuntarily offered up my blood in the continuing quest to determine why I was waking up in the middle of the night sweat-drenched and shivering.
There were two stores on the first floor of the building, a Tomasina bridal salon and an art gallery called the Art Loft. With the rest of the day ahead of me and no place to be, I decided to step into the gallery take a look around.
The Art Loft had several cases of artisan jewelry, the kind of dear little pieces made out of "found objects" such as old typewriter keys. Funky, fun, occasionally moving, intentionally inspiring pieces.
What caught my eyes was a series of cuff bracelets and small pendants. Both the bracelets and the pendants were stamped with quotes or a single word. The intent was to impart the wearer with a sort of invisible armor to aid them in getting through the day.
As I looked at the pieces, I thought about the misery of the past weeks. About the worry I pushed down deep, in a desire not to be overly dramatic about the short gauntlet of tests various doctors were putting me through. About how nice it was to feel that I was at the end of the pass through the gauntlet, not any wiser, but reassured that I did not have TB, thyroid issues or, most frightening because of my family history, lymphoma.
I purchased two pieces that day. A thin, sterling sliver cuff bracelet stamped with a quote attributed to Socrates, "Wisdom begins with wonder", and a small pendant stamped with a single word, "STRENGTH".
I convinced myself that I needed these pieces, to remind me that I was fine and would remain fine. To remind myself that the emotional cost of gaining wisdom was worth the wondering.
As I walked out of the store, up towards my car, I thought about my friend Bill. I had not written to him in the past weeks, not wanting to add worry about my health to his all ready heavy load of burdens. I was looking forward to getting good results from this final round of blood tests, forward to writing an email telling him of my adventures in medicine, that I was not perfect, but I was as close to fine as my doctors could determine me to be.
I never got a chance to send that email. Between that day and March 12, my friend Bill put a loaded shotgun in his mouth and pulled the trigger. I know, distinctly, which gun he used to end his life. I saw it sitting in his apartment four months earlier.
Harsh, is it not, the way I describe my friend's death? Harsh of me to not gloss over his violent journey from life to death? To refuse to speak in code, to say that he "passed away suddenly" or "took his life" or "committed suicide".
My friend lied to me. For years. Lied about the reasons surrounding his divorce. Lied about the reasons he was no longer permitted to talk to his son. Lied about his mental health.
My friend suffered from bipolar disorder. Like J's cousin-in-law, he refused to take medication consistently. Refused to stay in therapy. Drank to much. Became violent and abusive during the lows. And was somehow successfully able to hid this from employers, friends and most family.
Like J's cousin, my friend's wife decided she had enough. Was tired of the violence and the abuse. Was tired of watching their child suffer. While he was away on a free lance assignment, she told him not to come home. She didn't love him any more.
J's cousin-in-law and my friend took their respective lives within three weeks of each other, using the same method, under similar life circumstances. The catalyst for J's cousin-in-law was receiving divorce papers. For Bill, it was learning that he was responsible for his ex-wife's legal bills.
I say catalyst, but really, the catalyst occurred long, long before those events. It was made when they refused to stay on their medication. Refused to continue with therapy. Brought into the ridiculous cultural notion of how men should behave. Men don't get depressed. Men don't go into therapy. Men don't take medications.
I have written of my own difficulties with depression. I know, intimately, what it feels like to be suicidal. I know the kind of toll it takes on the people I love, the ones who love me. I know the burden that J carries in loving me, even in my mad, hopeless, depressed states*, charges me to do the very best I can to keep myself healthy mentally.
I have been angry with Bill for almost a year. For lying to me. For making the people he was supposed to love and protect the most suffer. For killing himself.
Earlier this week, while searching for something else, I came across a couple of his emails. And I felt the loss of my friend, the way I could not feel it for the past year. This morning, while riding into work, I started talking to J about Bill, after refusing to say anything about his death for almost a year. I started to cry.
And the woman across the aisle, the one who I thought had a mean face, she handed me two tissues so I could wipe the tears from my eyes.
*Hyperbole, people. Coping mechanism.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Debate
I've been following, with interest, the increasingly contentious debate over whether vaccinations cause autism. Last week's special court ruling denying three families compensation from the federal vaccine-injury fund is considered a significant victory by the pro-vaccination camp.
The ruling came on the heels of a February 8, 2009 article published in the Sunday Times Online, revealing that the leader of the never replicated, now discredited 1998 Lancet study concealed and falsified data to create the appearance of a link between autism and the MMR vaccination.
My interested in the debate is more than academic, as I am part of the 0.01% of the population who had a severe allergic reaction to the first dose of the MMR vaccination and, on the advice of the family doctor, never received the second booster shot. As such, I must rely on herd immunity to protect me from getting sick.
I can't say that my life has been complicated all that much by the fact that I have minimal to no immunity to these three diseases. But there have been several minor inconveniences over the years and the increasing number of otherwise educated and rational parents who have elected to not vaccinate their kids because they fail to understand the concept of risk, leaves me a little bit angry with them.
There has been the inconvenience of having blood drawn done my junior year of high school, after a classmate caught rubella* from a distant cousin. To protect the school population from a potential widespread outbreak, the members of my class were advised to get a booster shot.
Except I can't have the booster. Instead my brother** and I had our blood drawn and sent to the CDC to be tested for immunity. If our immunity fell below a specified level, we would be quarantined and not permitted to return to school for several weeks, as we were not only potential victims, we were also potential carriers.
The tests came back at the lowest acceptable level of immunity. We able to continue attending school.
A year later I had to submit a signed affidavit from my doctor attesting that I was allergic to the vaccination, in order to attend the college of my choice. Four years later I had to get a second affidavit in order to attend graduate school in a different state.
Minor inconveniences. As much as I would like to visit England, it is not an option right now because the rate of measles infections is steadily rising and herd immunity is falling, putting me at potential risk for infection. I have to commit to being more aware of the types of infectious diseases occurring in the places I would like to visit, in the United States and abroad.
Minor inconveniences. An outbreak in Pittsburgh would mean voluntary quarantine to protect myself and members of the immune suppressed population from exposure. Good thing I have the capability of working from home.
I understand and respect the arguments from those who elect to delay vaccinations until their children are a little bit older or spread out the shots in order to mitigate any potential reactions. I even agree with them. I might not have had such a bad reaction to the MMR if I had just had the M, then the other M, then the R.
I have near zero compassion for parents who outright refuse to vaccinate their kids. I believe them to be short-sighted and selfish with no sense of obligation to contributing to the greater good of the general public. Their demand for scientific absolutes is unreasonable. There is no such thing. In science or in life.
*Her vaccination failed. Which is rare, but does happen.
**My twin brother also had a severe allergic reaction to the first shot. Both of us had a high fever of several days duration and hives. He also had convulsions. Less you think a high fever is not a big deal, I must remind you that it lasted several days and we were 13 months old.
The ruling came on the heels of a February 8, 2009 article published in the Sunday Times Online, revealing that the leader of the never replicated, now discredited 1998 Lancet study concealed and falsified data to create the appearance of a link between autism and the MMR vaccination.
My interested in the debate is more than academic, as I am part of the 0.01% of the population who had a severe allergic reaction to the first dose of the MMR vaccination and, on the advice of the family doctor, never received the second booster shot. As such, I must rely on herd immunity to protect me from getting sick.
I can't say that my life has been complicated all that much by the fact that I have minimal to no immunity to these three diseases. But there have been several minor inconveniences over the years and the increasing number of otherwise educated and rational parents who have elected to not vaccinate their kids because they fail to understand the concept of risk, leaves me a little bit angry with them.
There has been the inconvenience of having blood drawn done my junior year of high school, after a classmate caught rubella* from a distant cousin. To protect the school population from a potential widespread outbreak, the members of my class were advised to get a booster shot.
Except I can't have the booster. Instead my brother** and I had our blood drawn and sent to the CDC to be tested for immunity. If our immunity fell below a specified level, we would be quarantined and not permitted to return to school for several weeks, as we were not only potential victims, we were also potential carriers.
The tests came back at the lowest acceptable level of immunity. We able to continue attending school.
A year later I had to submit a signed affidavit from my doctor attesting that I was allergic to the vaccination, in order to attend the college of my choice. Four years later I had to get a second affidavit in order to attend graduate school in a different state.
Minor inconveniences. As much as I would like to visit England, it is not an option right now because the rate of measles infections is steadily rising and herd immunity is falling, putting me at potential risk for infection. I have to commit to being more aware of the types of infectious diseases occurring in the places I would like to visit, in the United States and abroad.
Minor inconveniences. An outbreak in Pittsburgh would mean voluntary quarantine to protect myself and members of the immune suppressed population from exposure. Good thing I have the capability of working from home.
I understand and respect the arguments from those who elect to delay vaccinations until their children are a little bit older or spread out the shots in order to mitigate any potential reactions. I even agree with them. I might not have had such a bad reaction to the MMR if I had just had the M, then the other M, then the R.
I have near zero compassion for parents who outright refuse to vaccinate their kids. I believe them to be short-sighted and selfish with no sense of obligation to contributing to the greater good of the general public. Their demand for scientific absolutes is unreasonable. There is no such thing. In science or in life.
*Her vaccination failed. Which is rare, but does happen.
**My twin brother also had a severe allergic reaction to the first shot. Both of us had a high fever of several days duration and hives. He also had convulsions. Less you think a high fever is not a big deal, I must remind you that it lasted several days and we were 13 months old.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Under my Skin
I started snowboarding again, after a six year hiatus from the activity. The hiatus was partly due to an increasingly distant and frankly irrational fear of ski lifts and partly due to a period of financial difficultly.
Because of the hiatus, I have had to relearn everything, from how to properly fit and strap in my boots to how to get on and off ski lifts, I spent the better part of the two hours I was out on Saturday practicing on a beginner's slope called School Haus.
I am a hyper conscientious beginning snowboarder. I am the type of individual who warns the party behind her on the ski lift that there is a 99.9%* chance I will fall coming off the lift. When I do fall, I don't dawdle, I get my partially strapped-in body out of the way as quickly as I can.
When riding, I go to the least populated parts of a slope, usually unpopulated because the terrain is icy, lacks a decent layer of powder or is otherwise not conducive to a successful run. If I should happen to fall (a given), I am not taking other skiers and snowboarders out with me.**
I cannot, however, control the actions of other people on the slopes. I cannot, for example, force the father who was so busy looking down at his un-helmeted daughter while teaching her to ski that he forgot to look in front of him, from nearly colliding with me.**
That we did not collide was a minor miracle, considering that he came into my left field of peripheral vision so suddenly that I had no other choice but to stop my board, as I am not fast or skilled enough to veer the board out of their way.
Near collisions on the beginner's slope are a given, since everyone on the slope is (theoretically) learning how to ski/snowboard/get down the slope without falling down, in one piece. The general etiqutte in such situations is to apologize, check for injuries and move on.
This individual, however, was disinterested in following the general etiqutte. Instead he informed me that New York state law dictates that skiers have the right-of-way*** and went on his way with his daughter , skiing underneath the curved edge of my board.
As no one was injured, I should have let the incident go. But I could not. Instead his comment left me angry and deflated and seriously considering whether I wanted to continue investing the time, effort and money into trying to learn, only to be picked.
I tried cutting him some slack, as he was a parent and could have been a little bit shook up. As I look seventeen years old, in my bright blue jacket and funky hat. As he could have been having a bad day. But I could not shake my anger at his absolute sense of entitlement, that those ahead of him, on the slopes or in life, will merely sense his presence and get out of his way.
After several minutes of sitting on the slope, thinking, listening to J rave about my improvement and rant about mean people sucking, I finished the run down the hill, unstrapped myself from the board and we headed for one of the intermediate slopes, with a faster moving quad lift.
I fell while getting off the lift. I fell once on the way down. I managed to keep the front of the board pointed forward and the edges parallel to the slope. It was the best run I've had in years.
* I actually successfully got off a lift once. Seven years ago.
** I'm giving him the benefit of the doubt, that he did not see me, even though a small, petty part of me suspects that he did it intentionally.
*** The state law says no such thing. Skiers (including snowboarders) are required to look upslope when merging into a new trail and pay attention to what is in front of them. J, who was higher up on the slope watching me, confirmed that the man and his daughter came up from behind.
Because of the hiatus, I have had to relearn everything, from how to properly fit and strap in my boots to how to get on and off ski lifts, I spent the better part of the two hours I was out on Saturday practicing on a beginner's slope called School Haus.
I am a hyper conscientious beginning snowboarder. I am the type of individual who warns the party behind her on the ski lift that there is a 99.9%* chance I will fall coming off the lift. When I do fall, I don't dawdle, I get my partially strapped-in body out of the way as quickly as I can.
When riding, I go to the least populated parts of a slope, usually unpopulated because the terrain is icy, lacks a decent layer of powder or is otherwise not conducive to a successful run. If I should happen to fall (a given), I am not taking other skiers and snowboarders out with me.**
I cannot, however, control the actions of other people on the slopes. I cannot, for example, force the father who was so busy looking down at his un-helmeted daughter while teaching her to ski that he forgot to look in front of him, from nearly colliding with me.**
That we did not collide was a minor miracle, considering that he came into my left field of peripheral vision so suddenly that I had no other choice but to stop my board, as I am not fast or skilled enough to veer the board out of their way.
Near collisions on the beginner's slope are a given, since everyone on the slope is (theoretically) learning how to ski/snowboard/get down the slope without falling down, in one piece. The general etiqutte in such situations is to apologize, check for injuries and move on.
This individual, however, was disinterested in following the general etiqutte. Instead he informed me that New York state law dictates that skiers have the right-of-way*** and went on his way with his daughter , skiing underneath the curved edge of my board.
As no one was injured, I should have let the incident go. But I could not. Instead his comment left me angry and deflated and seriously considering whether I wanted to continue investing the time, effort and money into trying to learn, only to be picked.
I tried cutting him some slack, as he was a parent and could have been a little bit shook up. As I look seventeen years old, in my bright blue jacket and funky hat. As he could have been having a bad day. But I could not shake my anger at his absolute sense of entitlement, that those ahead of him, on the slopes or in life, will merely sense his presence and get out of his way.
After several minutes of sitting on the slope, thinking, listening to J rave about my improvement and rant about mean people sucking, I finished the run down the hill, unstrapped myself from the board and we headed for one of the intermediate slopes, with a faster moving quad lift.
I fell while getting off the lift. I fell once on the way down. I managed to keep the front of the board pointed forward and the edges parallel to the slope. It was the best run I've had in years.
* I actually successfully got off a lift once. Seven years ago.
** I'm giving him the benefit of the doubt, that he did not see me, even though a small, petty part of me suspects that he did it intentionally.
*** The state law says no such thing. Skiers (including snowboarders) are required to look upslope when merging into a new trail and pay attention to what is in front of them. J, who was higher up on the slope watching me, confirmed that the man and his daughter came up from behind.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Job Fair
Today it was my turn to participate in the “torture the new employee” at work. The new employee in question was myself and the task was to spend long hours in the student union of a local university collecting resumes from the soon-to-be-graduated-and-unemployed and the not-graduating-yet-seeking-internship students.
As we are not hiring, my company took a low-key approach to recruiting students, which meant a black and white, single page printout about the company, a stack of business cards and plenty of one-on-one interaction. Some of the recruiters went all out. Big displays. Interesting swag. The construction company to the left of me, specializing in big projects*, handed out thin, three sided rulers, each side marked using a different measurement system. There were pens, notepads, keychain flashlights and gym sacks. Miniature traffic cones. Popcorn.
I chatted with the students, gave out business cards, gathered resumes and tried to be reassuring. I wished them luck in their search. I referred one young woman, out of college for a year and struggling to find employment, to my former boss as a possible contact for employment. I gave a second woman a list of references to aid her in her search for an internship in QA. I even did a little of recruiting for one of our clients.
It was gratifying and frustrating. It was gratifying to the excitement and nervousness in the face of the students. It was frustrating to have to say over and over that we were not hiring, I did not know when we would be hiring, I'm really sorry that you are having so much trouble finding something but that will not change my answer.
And it was fun to have one student ask if the software would aid in fighting a “Cloverfield like monster attack? Or aliens? Will it help fight against aliens?”
*You know those giant earthmovers and dumptrucks you see along highways under construction? The kind with wheels the size of a small house? They did those kind of projects.
As we are not hiring, my company took a low-key approach to recruiting students, which meant a black and white, single page printout about the company, a stack of business cards and plenty of one-on-one interaction. Some of the recruiters went all out. Big displays. Interesting swag. The construction company to the left of me, specializing in big projects*, handed out thin, three sided rulers, each side marked using a different measurement system. There were pens, notepads, keychain flashlights and gym sacks. Miniature traffic cones. Popcorn.
I chatted with the students, gave out business cards, gathered resumes and tried to be reassuring. I wished them luck in their search. I referred one young woman, out of college for a year and struggling to find employment, to my former boss as a possible contact for employment. I gave a second woman a list of references to aid her in her search for an internship in QA. I even did a little of recruiting for one of our clients.
It was gratifying and frustrating. It was gratifying to the excitement and nervousness in the face of the students. It was frustrating to have to say over and over that we were not hiring, I did not know when we would be hiring, I'm really sorry that you are having so much trouble finding something but that will not change my answer.
And it was fun to have one student ask if the software would aid in fighting a “Cloverfield like monster attack? Or aliens? Will it help fight against aliens?”
*You know those giant earthmovers and dumptrucks you see along highways under construction? The kind with wheels the size of a small house? They did those kind of projects.
Sunday, February 08, 2009
Poison
The weekend started off auspiciously, with a Friday night Penguins game, complete with chicken fingers and fries with a side of barbecue and honey mustard dipping sauce. The hard lemonade was a nice compliment to the salt and grease. And my poor Penguins, (who will most likely miss the playoffs this year*), played a stellar, sixty minute game against the Columbus Blue Jackets.
It was a chunk out of a wheel of Giant Eagle double crème brie with herbs that nearly took me down for the rest of the weekend. With J at his parents for most of the day and I at loose ends, I decided that brie with cracked pepper crackers and black olives would be a perfectly respectable lunch.
I continued to believe this even after a close examination of the wheel of cheese showed a slightly brown coloring on its normally snowy white surface. I continued to believe this after slicing into the cheese revealed a slightly runny interior instead of the firm texture I've come to expect out of a wheel of Giant Eagle double crème brie with herbs. The odor was a little more brie-ish than usual, the flavor a little bit stronger.
Having eaten very smelly, very strong tasting cheeses before, I was not put off by the appearance and smell as much as I should have been. After all, there was still several weeks left before the passing of the sell by date.
Lunch finished, I continued enjoying my day of sloth (the only one available for the next several weekends) by watching home improvement shows (Eighteen THOUSAND dollars to renovate a bathroom?) and stretching out the folding of a basket of laundry over two hours. J and I see a play and go out for what turned out to be an infuriating dinner for reasons I shall not digress to discuss.
Almost immediately following the end of the the infuriating dinner I began to fill unwell. I should have known better. This is the third time in a year I have purchased brie from Giant Eagle, to find out that it was bad weeks before the sell-by date. Only this time I did not have enough sense to throw the cheese out. Instead I ate it, and spent half the night very uncomfortable, drinking as much chamomile and ginger tea as I could possibly stand.
J, penitent for being the cause of the infuriating dinner, made me the tea.
*That, in short, explains why I have not been writing about them this year. With their two of their top defensemen shelved due to injury for most of the season and the constant changing of lines and shuffling of WBS players in and out of the lineup, it has been frustrating.
It was a chunk out of a wheel of Giant Eagle double crème brie with herbs that nearly took me down for the rest of the weekend. With J at his parents for most of the day and I at loose ends, I decided that brie with cracked pepper crackers and black olives would be a perfectly respectable lunch.
I continued to believe this even after a close examination of the wheel of cheese showed a slightly brown coloring on its normally snowy white surface. I continued to believe this after slicing into the cheese revealed a slightly runny interior instead of the firm texture I've come to expect out of a wheel of Giant Eagle double crème brie with herbs. The odor was a little more brie-ish than usual, the flavor a little bit stronger.
Having eaten very smelly, very strong tasting cheeses before, I was not put off by the appearance and smell as much as I should have been. After all, there was still several weeks left before the passing of the sell by date.
Lunch finished, I continued enjoying my day of sloth (the only one available for the next several weekends) by watching home improvement shows (Eighteen THOUSAND dollars to renovate a bathroom?) and stretching out the folding of a basket of laundry over two hours. J and I see a play and go out for what turned out to be an infuriating dinner for reasons I shall not digress to discuss.
Almost immediately following the end of the the infuriating dinner I began to fill unwell. I should have known better. This is the third time in a year I have purchased brie from Giant Eagle, to find out that it was bad weeks before the sell-by date. Only this time I did not have enough sense to throw the cheese out. Instead I ate it, and spent half the night very uncomfortable, drinking as much chamomile and ginger tea as I could possibly stand.
J, penitent for being the cause of the infuriating dinner, made me the tea.
*That, in short, explains why I have not been writing about them this year. With their two of their top defensemen shelved due to injury for most of the season and the constant changing of lines and shuffling of WBS players in and out of the lineup, it has been frustrating.
Tuesday, February 03, 2009
Still Employed
Exhibit 1: I receive an email from my former manager informing me of the impending closure of the lab at which I spent the past five+ years of my life working and left in July 2008 for a job with better pay, more responsibility and a fraction of the aggravation.
Exhibit 2: I message one of the former co-workers, who tells me that yes, all of them will be out of a job as of January 30. Former employer (owner) flies in on Sunday and sets up meeting with manager. Informs manager that he is shutting the lab down and that he will be making the announcement on Monday morning.
Employees gather in conference room on Monday morning, owner makes announcement. Employees leave lab in shock, go for coffee. Return to lab less than thirty minutes later, discover owner is gone. As in packed up and headed back to west coast office.
A happy hour is announced. Former employees are invited to join the newly unemployed at a South Side bar for conversation and commiseration.
All but one former employee appears for the happy hour. We are entertained with stories of the horror that was the final two weeks of the lab.
How the owner went AWOL after the announcement, refusing to return any emails, messages or phone calls until late into the second week, leaving the lab manager (who is also out of a job) to deal with the fallout.
It was the manager who determined that the laid off employees would not qualify for COBRA insurance*, figured out how to file for unemployment**, and ran resume improvement sessions. It was the manager who determined which equipment would be sent back to the west coast and which could be sold. It was the manager who had to endure, after two weeks of being completely ignored, a dressing down by the owner about not moving “fast enough” to get the equipment shipped and sold off.
They tell us about the sudden influx of work that forced most of the employees to test while packing up and shipping the most valuable equipment to back to the west coast and writing ads to sell the remaining equipment on craigslist. That, as late as Thursday, project managers on the west coast were requesting testers for projects.
There were also the passive aggressive attempts at revenge. The equipment put on craigslist was deliberately overpriced, to make it more difficult to sell, thus leaving the owner to deal with the removal any remaining pieces once the lease on the office space ran out. Instructions by the owner to remove sold pieces from the lab (which included a ping pong table and a full size refrigerator) were ignored. Because the demand for testers continued until the very last day, the lab manager was able to extend his employment for an additional two weeks, since he could not send any of the remaining equipment back.
As the account of common atrocities piled up, I was increasingly thankful that I left last July. I am acutely aware that the position I have might not last, that I may not get my contracted raises, that J might lose his job. But right now, I am very happy that I took a deep breath, sacrificed some of my time off and plunged into something new.
*Companies with less than 20 employees are not required to offer COBRA. What makes this detail interesting is the company had less that 20 employees when I left and I was offered COBRA. So not only did my former coworkers lose their job, my former employer elected to do the shitty thing and not offer them an opportunity to maintain their insurance coverage.
**I can't help but wonder if they will be screwed out of unemployment for the same reason they were screwed out of COBRA.
Exhibit 2: I message one of the former co-workers, who tells me that yes, all of them will be out of a job as of January 30. Former employer (owner) flies in on Sunday and sets up meeting with manager. Informs manager that he is shutting the lab down and that he will be making the announcement on Monday morning.
Employees gather in conference room on Monday morning, owner makes announcement. Employees leave lab in shock, go for coffee. Return to lab less than thirty minutes later, discover owner is gone. As in packed up and headed back to west coast office.
A happy hour is announced. Former employees are invited to join the newly unemployed at a South Side bar for conversation and commiseration.
All but one former employee appears for the happy hour. We are entertained with stories of the horror that was the final two weeks of the lab.
How the owner went AWOL after the announcement, refusing to return any emails, messages or phone calls until late into the second week, leaving the lab manager (who is also out of a job) to deal with the fallout.
It was the manager who determined that the laid off employees would not qualify for COBRA insurance*, figured out how to file for unemployment**, and ran resume improvement sessions. It was the manager who determined which equipment would be sent back to the west coast and which could be sold. It was the manager who had to endure, after two weeks of being completely ignored, a dressing down by the owner about not moving “fast enough” to get the equipment shipped and sold off.
They tell us about the sudden influx of work that forced most of the employees to test while packing up and shipping the most valuable equipment to back to the west coast and writing ads to sell the remaining equipment on craigslist. That, as late as Thursday, project managers on the west coast were requesting testers for projects.
There were also the passive aggressive attempts at revenge. The equipment put on craigslist was deliberately overpriced, to make it more difficult to sell, thus leaving the owner to deal with the removal any remaining pieces once the lease on the office space ran out. Instructions by the owner to remove sold pieces from the lab (which included a ping pong table and a full size refrigerator) were ignored. Because the demand for testers continued until the very last day, the lab manager was able to extend his employment for an additional two weeks, since he could not send any of the remaining equipment back.
As the account of common atrocities piled up, I was increasingly thankful that I left last July. I am acutely aware that the position I have might not last, that I may not get my contracted raises, that J might lose his job. But right now, I am very happy that I took a deep breath, sacrificed some of my time off and plunged into something new.
*Companies with less than 20 employees are not required to offer COBRA. What makes this detail interesting is the company had less that 20 employees when I left and I was offered COBRA. So not only did my former coworkers lose their job, my former employer elected to do the shitty thing and not offer them an opportunity to maintain their insurance coverage.
**I can't help but wonder if they will be screwed out of unemployment for the same reason they were screwed out of COBRA.
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