That statement that might sound insane, but I have my reasons and I think you’ll understand why I feel this way.
The year was 1997, I was working for a state hospital as a pharmacy technician. It was not a particularly well paying job but it did have health insurance for employees and optionally for their families, plus a defined benefit pension plan. The pension was a huge draw for me, and one of the main reasons I had applied for my job.
I started working for the state hospital in 1984 after working 2 years at an HCA hospital. HCA was a for-profit healthcare corporation but they weren’t that generous with their money, at least not for the lower level employees. I had gotten two raises during my time at the HCA hospital, after my first year I got one for 12 cents and the next year an additional 12 cents. Even at 1982-83 cost of living levels that was pretty chintzy. Before you think I was just a bad employee who didn’t deserve anything better, I’ll tell you the raises were not performance based.
When the first whispers surfaced about the conversion of the hospital facilities it was referred to as a sale and alternatively as a merger or my favorite, a partnership with HCA/Columbia, in legal terms, a conversion. A conversion being the shift of all or a substantial portion of a non-profit, public owned organization to for-profit use.
The rumor mill was really churning and the non-professional employees, as lower level folks like me were referred to, were anxious about how this would effect us. Eventually we received an official memo answering our questions. I can’t recall every detail but basically we would have fewer vacation days, a less generous sick leave policy and a 401k instead of the state pension.
As a consolation for longer term employees, if you had been there 15 or more years you could keep your pension. This was really bad news for me, as I’d only been there for 13 years. If only the 2 years I’d spent at HCA had been at the state institution, dammit all. I can tell you I was devastated.
The deal was expected to go smoothly and swiftly, but something unanticipated occurred.
Quite fortuitously for me, at this precise point in time it came to light that Rick Scott, as the CEO of Columbia/HCA, had committed the largest Medicare fraud in this nation’s history.
The deal, of course, fell through, Scott was ousted from HCA/Columbia with a generous golden parachute and propelled into Republican politics which turned out to be a Cinderella’s slipper fit for him.
I’m retired now, enjoying each day, and every month when my retirement check hits my credit union account, I say:
“Bless your heart, Rick.”