Feeling Blue

Articles

Holly Winter
Living The Life Of Holly

Feeling Blue
June 30, 2003

“Hey. It’s me. Thought I would give you a quick call. How you doing?”

I started crying. “Not so good.”

“What? What’s wrong?” My supervisor from work asked.

“I can’t believe that I’m going to be fired because I have a disability.”

“You’re not going to be fired. Your doctor is going to write that letter.”

I cried harder. I had lied. It was my own fault. I got scared when I got the termination letter. I told work that I could get a doctor’s appointment when his top secretary couldn’t even get in to see him. He was booked solid for months. I had said that I was getting in next week. I had tried to buy some time.

“I have good news for you.” She said cheerily. “I’ve had your termination date extended till after your doctor’s appointment. We’ll give him an extra day to get the paperwork in.”

Nope. That didn’t help. I actually thought that I could get in to see one of his associates. They were always available within a few days. Nope. Not possible. They were both booked solid too. I was sunk. I had thought that there was hope. I mean. He had always been available over the phone. But. For some reason he hadn’t returned my call this time.

I was pretty sure that he was tired of all the demands I had made on him. He was divorcing me. Surely that was it. He was tired of all the letters he had to write. He was tired of me wanting to take less medicine. He was tired of me. I couldn’t blame him. I was pretty tired of me too.

I cried harder. “I’m tired of fighting all of this. It’s not like I can go and write a letter or jog fifty miles or do something to meet the requirements of my job. I can’t do anything.”

She was surprised. I had been so upbeat and positive about the whole process all along. Not tonight. I was feeling far from optimistic.

“Come on, Holly. Where’s that woman always ready to beat the odds? This isn’t a big deal. Just be sure that he puts the restrictions in there.”

“The only restriction that I need is fifty percent time. That’s all. That’s what he keeps on writing.”

“I don’t know what that means.” She said, quietly.

“What?”

“What does fifty percent mean? Does it mean you can work half a day? Half a week? One day out of two?”

I couldn’t believe it. How come nobody ever asked him to define that before? “It means that I would fly half a month. Full time for us is seventy hours. I would fly thirty five hours.”

“HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO ENTER THAT INTO THE COMPUTER SO YOU CAN BID?”

“I don’t know.” I cried. “Maybe I need to talk to somebody who understands ADA and disabilities. Can’t it be a job share?”

“Your doctor can’t tell us how to schedule. What if we need to junior man you? Remember last winter when we had all that bad weather? What if you get stuck in another city and get sick? Will we have to cancel the flight? How will we know that you’re safe to fly?” She asked. “Hold on a minute.”

I cried into the phone. I had no answers. It was as likely that I would get sick as it was that another flight attendant would get sick. Epilepsy didn’t make me weak. It made me need to take medicine. That’s it.

“Holly. I have D2 on the phone. She works in benefits. Maybe you can ask her some questions.”

I tried to stop crying. “I don’t have any questions.” I couldn’t think. What did I want? Did I want to work for them?

Supervisor continued. “Didn’t you have questions about the doctor’s letter?”

“Yes.” I said quickly. “Could you write out what you need him to state? He doesn’t work in the airline industry. I don’t want him to have to keep on writing letters. I’m making him mad.”

“Making him mad?” Sup said. “That’s his job to write letters.”

“How can we write what he needs to write?” D2 asked. “We aren’t doctors.”

“Neither am I.” I said quietly. “I don’t know what to tell him.”

“Maybe he should start by writing the letter on our form.” D2 said.

“What form?”

Sup cut in. “Holly. You have refused that form over and over again. I have tried to give you that form.”

I ignored her. “There’s a form? A form for him to sign? And I’ve never had it? And you are giving it to me after I get my termination letter? When I’ve been on leave for six months and never seen that form?”

“Can we fax it to him?” D2 asked.

“Yes.” I worried. “But I already faxed him four pages of information that he needed to consider. Now we have to add more pages? Man. That’s asking a lot. I hope he didn’t already write the letter.”

“That’s his job.” D2 and Sup agreed.

“Any more questions?” D2 asked.

I sighed. “I’ve only now realized that I need to be my own advocate.” I said as I thanked them for their time and hung up.

I curled up on the couch and cried and cried. Had I messed this up somehow? Was it my fault? Had my medicine made me so foggy that I had missed deadlines or not done what was required of me? Was this all my own fault? Should I take a six month leave of absence and then go back to work full time so that I could skip the red tape?

Maybe a six month accommodation of half time working was asking too much. Maybe I didn’t want to fly anymore.

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About the author: Holly Winter is a teacher and a writer and a flight attendant living in Denver, Colorado, USA. She can be reached at her website or email: Holly@livingthelifeofholly.com

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