Mom Guilt

The guilt yesterday was overwhelming.

I haven't visited Mom in over a week. Business, meetings, the Comp Laude Gala - all conspired to interfere with visitation.

I was going to head down to visit on Wednesday, but access to N6641M was blocked due to taxiway re-pavement (I knew that it was going to occur, in stages, but the Airport District didn't like the weather so they made it a bigger initial project than originally planned).

A big meeting was scheduled yesterday so I didn't plan on traveling. But then it cancelled in the morning because one of the key participants was sick - and I could have flown down to see Mom but I didn't like that big, nasty pineapple express of a storm in the forecast (there's a maxim with pilots: better to be on the ground wishing you were up in the sky, than up in the sky wishing you were on the ground).

And of course the weather today, while I have nothing on calendar interfering with travels, is that big, nasty pineapple express of a storm.

I'm on the ground...

Mom

Poor Mom - she gets so excited when I visit. She probably doesn't remember when I was last there, nor does she ever, so she's never disappointed when I don't visit.

But she surely does love it when I DO visit and it's that smile and warmth that she projects that gives me the knowledge that it is very important to her well being, both physical and mental.

That's the part I feel guilt about - bringing joy to Mom, one day, one visit at a time.

I think this is not unlike someone who's had a work injury and ends up sequestered on disability pending some resolution of either a medical treatment plan/decision or a return to work offer.

I think of how lonely that must be for most people - work is, after all, one of the most important identities we have. Many, many psychological studies affirm that we are what our work is.

To be taken off work, to miss the stimulation of our colleagues, to be without productivity, means a huge part of WHO we are is taken away, or at least muffled.

I go back to Dwight Johnson's motivational speech at the WorkCompCentral Comp Laude Gala - a big part of his being was his work. It was obvious to me and the 300 other attendees wiping tears from their eyes that traveling the world inspecting skyscrapers under construction was a very important part of his identity.

It was so important that he returned to that same line of work after only a few months of his first lower extremity amputation.

So important, that after his second amputation he felt so much less of a man, so much less of a provider to his wife and seven children, that death seemed a better answer than facing life without him SELF.

I wonder sometimes if we ever really get "that."

There are so many studies that urge early return to work, so many that espouse the virtues of a productive life and the physical and mental health rewards of work. It's our identity, our well being, that gets affected when we are removed from our occupations.

Just look at how many people failed to get back into the employment ranks after prolonged unemployment in this last recession, how many of those people just feel crushed.

Many articles have been written about return to work. I have written many myself. Now there is interpretation of the Americans with Disabilities Act that return to work is more imperative than ever, with potential employer liabilities for failure to accommodate even if the employee is not 100% capable of performing all of his or her prior job functions.

Those who work in claims must have a huge heart - how they maintain such compassion day in and day out is beyond the scope of my understanding. Heck, I can't be away from Mom for more than a week without feeling a tremendous guilt. I can't imagine the empathetic claims adjuster feeling entirely hopeless when circumstances inhibit humanitarian instinct.

Nicolas Santilli

The Comp Laude Awards recognized one claims adjuster who rose above the rest with his compassion, understanding, and huge heart - Nicolas Santilli of Sedgwick's Pasadena, CA office won the award on this nomination:

The claimant wrote Nick not one, but three, thank you notes. The most moving was a letter that the claimant wrote leading up to her 50th birthday and how she had decided to thank people in her life who had made a difference. Nick was the only person on her list that she had never met in person or didn’t know as a personal friend. She only knew Nick as the person who handled her claim. 

She wrote:

“Nick, you have the distinction of being the only person, of all the people I am writing letters to, that I have never met! But what you have done for me the past six months of my life has been such a great blessing. 

"I am so very grateful to you for all you have done for me, so I absolutely had to include you in this letter writing project of mine. 

"I was very, very, lucky to have you as the person handling my case. That first day you called me was my luckiest day ever! The genuine compassion you showed after I had such a terrible experience the first three weeks of my injury was such a gift to me and to my recovery; I am certain it is greatly due to your willingness to help me, that I was able to make such a great recovery and walk normally again, something I doubted, at one point I would ever be able to do. 

"I will be forever grateful to you because you gave me the gift of my health, the gift of doing everything possible to restore my health. You went above and beyond what you had to do.

"You could have easily said 'no' to the additional therapy and simply followed the rule book, but you chose to really help me. That is a gift I will appreciate the rest of my life. No, I sincerely and honestly know the meaning of the saying 'to count your blessings.' Well, please know that for the past six months I have counted you as a blessing and will continue to do so the rest of my life. I will never take your act of kindness for granted.”

Dwight Johnson

Mr. Johnson, in his speech, reiterated the same thoughts - the team of well caring, compassionate people that showed care for him and went that extra mile after such devastating losses is what made him come back to LIFE.

When I read about someone like Mr. Santilli, or hear a story like Mr. Johnson's, I know that good things can be, and are, done in the workers' compensation industry. We don't do everything right. Sometimes we make egregious errors (indeed, I took to task Sedgwick some time ago on a case that was badly botched) but the truth is that, for the most part, we're in this industry because we LIKE to do GOOD for PEOPLE.

I wrote some time ago about maintaining the Mom Standard when looking at a claim: if that were Mom, how would I want her treated?

If you don't feel guilty about not visiting Mom, then you might be in the wrong industry...