Fred of Brotman Needed to Vent About Disappearing Co-Workers

He supped steaming coffee — “strictly black, I don’t wanna mess around” — from a cup that once had been younger, too. “Years ago, they told us we would have our jobs for life, if we wanted. I believed ‘em. Now that I’m older, I know differently. I don’t like what is going on around here. I don’t have any idea what the new owners have in mind. I just know that my friends are asking, ‘What is the prognosis?’ Nobody I know has an answer. I can’t criticize the layoffs. Privately owned hospitals have to make a profit. God knows, Tenet made tons of money when they owned Brotman. I don’t really begrudge them, but some executives’ salaries bother me. We are all here to make money. But think about the rest of us.” The Apple Pie of His Eye

Normally a moderate eater, Fred balanced off his piping hot java with a generous slice of apple pie, stacked, to make it a la mode. I was not counting. But it seemed he destroyed the calorie-charged snack in three lusty bites. “I don’t feel very good,” Fred said with a frown. Layoffs, he was saying, can be lethal. As he remembers, it was a year ago that a 35-year employee of Brotman, whom he knew distantly, was laid off. Within days, he learned the man had died violently, when his car crashed into a tree. “I don’t have any answers,” Fred said, “but when you are laying off people, you have a responsibility to them. Whether it’s providing counseling or holding job fairs. The employer has an obligation. Trouble is, in a place like this, I guess we don’t really have corporate ownership. But it feels like we do. So impersonal. Mind you, I am not saying anyone is a bad guy. We have a new boss, you know.” (Howard Levine recently replaced CEO Maureen Cate, who was abruptly fired last month. See “At the Top of Brotman’s Shopping List: Still Another CEO,” Oct. 18.) Fred continued to wash down his dessert dish with about his fourth cup of ebony coffee. “When people don’t personally know anyone on the staff, it’s pretty easy to sweep in and make cuts. That way you don’t feel the pain.”

Postscript

Fred shook his head, less certain, maybe even less optimistic, than he had been when he sat down. “I always try to see the brighter side,” he said, more softly than before. “Like I said, there is no bad person in this picture. But I keep thinking about the nurses supporting their families who are losing hours and losing pay when they’re sent home. I think about the secretaries. I wonder what they’re going to do for Christmas.” Fred finally gave up on the coffee. We shook hands. Almost in slow motion, he disappeared into the night air, on the way home to his family.