Over the past few months, our family's overall immune system has been failing the resistance test. Practically no month has gone by without me being forced to take sick leave or work long periods of telecommuting. For some reason unknown to me, an awkward feeling of embarrassment and visceral remorse always comes up. It's embarrassing to be sick again. Suddenly, for a few moments, it's not the otherwise most essential and irreplaceable aspects, my children or my health, that matter, but a sense of shame that takes over. Instead of relaxing in a warm bed sipping tea, I start to wonder if there is some halfway solution that I can get away with that will reduce the discomfort of the situation, at least on the surface. It's horrible to have to deal with the fever and pain on top of this nagging guilt we've been raised with. And it doesn't help that the second question my mum and friends ask when I phone to check on my wellbeing is "what do they say at work?"
I'm not in the habit of generalizing, so I'll say cautiously and very quietly that I think this psychic is a Hungaricum. I lived abroad for a long time and later was surrounded by colleagues abroad, and interestingly, there was no indication that they had ever struggled with this they had. They were invariably sick.
In the middle of such a battle, remorse was battling with the awareness of the severity of the thermometer readings that the phone beeped. A Danish friend replied to my message from yesterday. It's only now he starts because his boss had thrown him a surprise welcome party the day before. Welcome party!? Well, my aforementioned Hungarian mentality must be why I was staring wide-eyed at the display. Welcome? Hadn't he been fired? Because what happened was that last year, his doctor put him on sick leave for one (!) year (!) due to "stress." Burnout syndrome. During that year, he suffered no shortage of money or anything else. He was prescribed several recreational activities, such as therapy, wellness, sport, etc., which we consider a gentleman's fad. And what happened? Her chin didn't get knocked out, she didn't become depressed and unemployed, her family didn't become disabled, and she didn't even think about losing her job, but her boss organized a welcome party for her because she was so eager to get back! Unbelievable!
And really, I wonder what my workplace will say? Fortunately, there are workarounds. At IV, we have telecommuters, and it is possible to work from a home office. The bi-weekly Wednesday company demonstration day is an exception to the subsidized physical absence when you are expected to be present in person. Those not present in the office join the standups via skype in the morning. This is when everyone tells what they did the day before and what they will do today. The key is transparency, availability, and productivity. If these three are met, it makes virtually no difference where you are physical. In our task management system, we can see what we have planned and then completed for the day; we are available online, and no problem.
It's a perfect goat and cabbage solution, preferably for when you're tending to a pathological state but not yet in an ideal situation or when you're forced to be absent because of your kids. Working from home can also have several other benefits, such as reducing the risk of disease, in some ways making it easier to flow, getting more done more efficiently, and saving on the round trip.
I'm finding that this conscience thing could be slowly let go because this is a people-centric company where well-being is paramount. We don't have to struggle with the ingrained guilt I described above because we get all the support we need from each other, and in this company culture, that kind of mental capacity is not an expected competency. I haven't been able to let go of it; it's been too well taught.
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