Past Work Issues
Let me just start by saying that in no way am I a saint. I can get pretty evil when I need to be. Over the years (probably the last 5 or so) I've noticed myself becomming more and more cynical towards people in general. I look at people who are eternal optomists and find myself torn between thinking "wow, I wish I was that optomistic" and "grow up and take off the rose coloured glasses." Especially in the last 2 years, I look at myself and I see an angry person in a rut who doesn't really know how to change. Don't get me wrong, I have things and people in my life who make me happy (my Trekkie lovin' goof of a boyfriend Pat being the latest and biggest factor), but as a whole I have completely lost faith with mankind.
I'd really love to be proven wrong, but to date, my personal experiences have done nothing but cement my beliefs that everyone looks out for Number 1, and would sell their souls to the highest bidder to get ahead.
For the most part, this serious resentment that I harbour is aimed at my most recent place of employment, and more specifically, at my old manager. I have been off work since October 2009, and even with all that time away I still find myself fuming at some of the bullshit that was pulled on me. I was hired as a Passenger Services Agent for an airline in May 2008. I went to college for Tourism and Travel (twice) but couldn't complete my program due to my CF (another place where I got screwed because of my CF). During my interview, I not only told my boss-to-be that I had CF, but had a very visible PICC which she noticed. Obviously, employers cannot descriminate based on health issues, so I got the job.
I like my job. Shit gets tough, flights delay and get cancelled, passengers scream and yell when flights don't follow schedule due to weather (cause, you know, we on the ground tell God to bring on the thunder showers so 70 people miss their connections, therefore making OUR lives hell), Chicago fucks up the bag counts SO badly so that when passengers arrive only half of them actually have their bags... A lot of shit goes down working as a PSA - but I like my job. I have met a great number of people working in the airport over the last few years who I wouldn't trade for the world.
However... About 4 months in to my new job (which was my first full time job WITH BENEFITS as up until that time I was always part time and in school, or working full time hours on part time status so if I got sick I could just automatically reduce my hours without delay) life got pretty tough. I had been on IV meds for months, my grandfather died, and my dad's cousin died (who I loved like a grandfather as my own had pretty much been absent from my life for the last 14 years). I was supposed to be sent away to L.A. for 2 weeks for training for my job, but it kept being put off for me because the next available class was during a funeral, or an important doctor's appointment, or one of the two weddings I was in. I ended up going on leave for 2 weeks in August when the deaths occured because my anxiety level was through the roof and not helping me concentrate at work or focus on my health. My boss was pretty good about it (which would be the ONLY time) and I got my head back on straight.
I was sent for training in November 2008, but not before the storm hit. Some of my co-workers had been asked to work over-time to make up for my loss. In my mind this means extra money, but it started a battle that lliterally carried on for months. One girl in particular had the most to say about it. Her opinion was that I should not be allowed to hold a full-time job with the company because my health made me unreliable, and it wasn't fair that other people who also have lives to lead should have to pick up the slack. This wasn't one of those conversations that took place privately, she yelled this at me across a table filled with my other co-workers. I told her that our boss could not descriminate against me due to my CF as it's against the law, and furthermore, if I had to be absent for 4 weeks out of every year due to illness (as that was the case at the time), why should that one month dictate my ability to hold a full-time job when I am at work and a fully functioning agent 11 months out of the year?
The arguement ended at that but it remained no secret that her opinion had spread to my other co-workers who I know over the months have been talking behind my back during periods of illness regarding things I can and cannot do, and even suggesting that I'm not actually sick, but just using my CF to get fake doctors notes so I could have whatever days I wanted off. My manager was one of these people. I worked the over-night shifts for months (the hardest shift because not only do you work alone, but if the flights delay a 8 hr shift could easily turn into a 13 hr shift and I'd have no choice but to stay). Christmas 2008 was a really hard time as I worked 80 hrs in one week (5 pm till 8 am due to delays and hoardes of missing bags and paperwork) pretty much doing nothing but getting yelled at by angry people whose bags didn't make the connection in Chicago and all their x-mas gifts were in the bags. I did this pretty much completely ALONE. That wore me out big time, and, BIG SHOCK, I ended up sick and back on IV meds pretty much right after the rush was over... and guess who wasn't happy.
My FEV1 was 22% (the lowest it had ever been) and I knew this was the beginning of something bad. I tried to level with my boss, and just be honest about how I was feeling physically and mentally. I told her my lungs were doing really badly because I was over-worked and not able to care for myself properly working the hours that I was, and as a result was being written off work by my Doc to undergo a course of IV meds. I also made the mistake of telling her that I felt angry and frustrated at my co-workers who were talking about my supposed "non-existant illness" and implying that I wasn't actually sick, which not only kicked my anxiety up a few notches but made me fear for my job as well. My supervisor (who is the sweetest lady I have ever had the pleasure of working with) started asking me questions about what I meant by that statement, but before I could fill in the details, my boss was doing it for me. I had never mentioned what I had heard before to anyone I worked with, so how could my boss know such things? Easy - she was in on it. My supervisor confirmed it a few months later that my boss was trying to make my life hell so I would quit, because she knew legally she couldn't fire me for health reasons.
Before officially going on long-term sick leave in October, I was admitted again in August (not even 2 weeks after meeting Pat), but not before warning my Supervisor of my need for IV meds. She promised me that they would find a way to accomodate me while I was sick (like only working the counter) as with the PICC I can't lift and it's difficult for me to push passengers in wheelchairs because of the weight and it causes me to pretty much have an asthma attack by the time I'm done. I called her once I was discharged to arrange for my return when my boss stepped in with this "you don't dictate to us when you return; WE tell YOU when you're allowed back."
EXCUSE YOU?!
She got HR involved, and I got the Union involved. She gave me the run-around, requesting doctor's notes, certificates etc stating irrelevant shit about my health (some of which she had already been provided a year earlier... Some of the notes on my file are the EXACT same document with changed dates because the facts about CF don't change) and I ended up being gone for an entire month longer than needed because she kept stating that I couldn't come back until I did this, or got her that etc. Finally, by the time I DID get back, I was only back 8 days before my lung function crashed again. I've been off work since.
She was just recently fired for being a HORRID BITCH to all of my other co-workers, and since her departure they all seem a lot happier. Right before she was fired I went in to collect my things from my locker and shhe watched me like a hawkm demanding to know why I was there and how I got into the office. I'm on disability; still technically an employee. I have just as much right to be there as anyone else. She asked me if I was coming back soon as "they don't know what to do with me" and I explained that I have been hospitalized more times in the last 9 months than I ever have in my life, and I was being referred for a double lung transplant. That being said, it's too hard on me to work right now as being in an airport 5 days a week with my non-existant immune system is dangerous (hello swine flu!!) and I get sick so fast it's often unpredictable as to when I'll have to leave again and I didn't wanna cause more scheduling conflicts than I already have.
The fucking bitch rolled her eyes at me. I'm glad she's unemployed. She should never be allowed near a management position ever again. TOTAL abuse of power (and not a fucking brain cell in her nasty head).
Let's ignore the fact that I've been told I basically have 3 years to live without the transplant. Let's ignore the fact that I do not have the ability to lead even a semi-normal life because I'm too sick to do so. Let's ignore the fact that if I do make the list, I'll have to leave the city I've lived in all my life to be within allowable distance of the transplant center. Let's ignore the fact that the pager may not go off in time for me, or even if it does that in the grand scheme of things the best chance I have is only 5 years. I'll never be able to have kids, I may never marry the man I love, I may not see my 30th birthday. But none of that matters because my health issues have fucked up her schedule and affected her operation again.
Bite my ass SL. I hope one day you yourself are diagnosed with a serious illness, or become a parent of a sick child so you can understand just how insignificant your station becomes when your life or the life of someone you love is on the line and you can't do anything to stop it.
I'm pretty pissed right now (big shock, huh?) so I'm gonna go watch some TV or something. Hopefully now that that's out I can move the hell on... Thanks for letting me rant. I hope nobody goes through this.
-R