poster child
Umm..yep, that's Poopie. Or it was seventeen years ago. The longtime administrative assistant to the boss of our hospital is retiring. While cleaning out her shit stuff, she found this old picture of me that was part of the local media blitz by the company that owned us at the time. Their slogan? "We know what a miracle you are." The business plan was quite simple. As a not-for-profit church affilated healthcare provider, the vision was to expand the market over the entire West Tennessee area by buying up rural "feeder" hospitals to the hub in Memphis. There were seven facilities purchased when the bidding wars ceased and the dust settled. Final price tag on ours was about ten million over net worth, just to keep the competitor from winning. The county of Dyer made out like a bandit and Poops lost several years worth of retirement money.
Several years into that miracle, I began to resent the business being conducted in the name of the church of which I was a lifelong member. Not being one to keep her thoughts to herself, I squawked. Loudly..softly. Not a soul ever acknowledged that they felt my pain or even acknowledged that I had one. This company was notorious for starting things they never finished and making promises. Eventually they sold all seven of the hospitals to the highest bidder. That's a story for another time.
This post is for Laura...for her presence during the thirty years that I have been there and the forty seven that have been her tenure. I hope that she enjoys her free days and remembers just enough about the journey to jog our memories when we wonder why we're still there and remind us when it's time to move on.
Keep the faith girl. ^j^
Several years into that miracle, I began to resent the business being conducted in the name of the church of which I was a lifelong member. Not being one to keep her thoughts to herself, I squawked. Loudly..softly. Not a soul ever acknowledged that they felt my pain or even acknowledged that I had one. This company was notorious for starting things they never finished and making promises. Eventually they sold all seven of the hospitals to the highest bidder. That's a story for another time.
This post is for Laura...for her presence during the thirty years that I have been there and the forty seven that have been her tenure. I hope that she enjoys her free days and remembers just enough about the journey to jog our memories when we wonder why we're still there and remind us when it's time to move on.
Keep the faith girl. ^j^