Regular blog readers will remember the last few months I’ve written quite a number of blog entries about stress, and that often I sort of alluded to things going on behind the scenes that I couldn’t really talk about.
Well, I can sing like a canary now! This week the official announcement was made – the magazine I work for has been sold to a new company. I can’t tell you how glad I am to have the whole thing over with, although there are still a number of details to be settled that are going to stress me out until they are actually settled.
First, the good part. I’m now a veteran of four buyouts (this being the fourth) and this is the first time our magazine has been bought because someone specifically wanted us. Before, we were always sold with the rest of the company and just came as part of the deal. We’ve never really been a perfect strategic fit for our owners – we were sort of the step children that came along for the ride.
But the new company wants us. They actually made an effort to buy us – not just a collection of magazines of which we were a part. I’m hoping that this is a really good omen for our future. We are actually a pretty good strategic fit with the new company.
Already it seems as though they are willing to invest in improvements, and that’s another good sign.
Although I certainly wasn’t involved in any of the negotiations for the deal, I’ve been terribly stressed out about it for months. Our parent company had decided to sell off the division we belonged to, except that we didn’t really fit with the other magazines. We were the odd duck. Our publisher wanted to buy us, which in many ways had its perks, but I was very concerned in other ways. It isn’t that I don’t mind working hard, but no one knows better than I do how short life can be, and I don’t want to work every living moment of my life (not to mention my HPS responsibilities.) I wasn’t really in the mood to be an entrepreneur, hanging out there on a limb without the selling and marketing and overhead backing of a larger company.
But, what would become of us? My company constantly assured me I had nothing to worry about. If the magazine should meet its demise, I was told they’d find a job elsewhere in the company for me. But would they really? Did they really understand that with my vision impairment, I can’t necessarily so easily trade in a mostly writing job for say, a production job. If push came to shove, would they really be able to find me anything?
And then there’s the whole matter of health insurance. My entire life pretty much revolves around my health insurance. I am not completely lacking in ambition, nor am I totally risk adverse. I’ve seen other opportunities I’ve wanted to follow, had other ideas about my future – but frankly, being without good health insurance is a serious matter for me. I’m not supposed to be doing this well, and I’m convinced that the reason I am doing as well as I am is because of my insurance. I can see specialists when I need them with no hassle. Although I feel like I’m single-handedly supporting the entire CVS chain, at least I can afford my medications (even if I can’t afford much else.) Without insurance, I’d be doing without medications. Needless to say, I’ve had a lot of anxiety about my health insurance lately.
That still is somewhat up in the air. It seems the company that purchased us has a plan for which everything in Kansas City is out of network. I have my current insurance until the first of the year, and hopefully by then the problem will be solved.
Then there’s the matter of where we would be working. I’d love to work from home. It would definitely require some changes to my office, but I think it would be much easier for me to manage my health issues if I worked from home. I could, for example, take a half hour nap if I needed it. Or, I could very easily change my ostomy when that skin ulcer thing is acting up. When I’m having female HPSish issues, I could more easily handle them here rather than in a public restroom.
But, they might decide to rent office space for us here. Us moving there has already been ruled out, although I’d happily move to Connecticut. This worries me from a transportation standpoint. It’s been really nice to be able to take the regular public bus!
Lastly there’s the issue of compensation. I am very much underpaid, I believe, and I’m hoping that new ownership with a real interest in our magazine might mean a raise. We’ll see – could be wishful thinking. But, I need a raise. No question.
Throughout this process I know my co-workers have thought I was over reacting about my concerns. This is one of those times when having a chronic illness just makes life different. It makes insurance more than a job benefit – it’s a lifeline. The fear of losing my job should a buyer just shut us down was terrifying in many ways. Try announcing to a new employer that you’ll be needing three weeks off a year, every year, to be in a clinical trial because you have what could become a life threatening illness. Oh yeah. That sounds like a major selling point. Hire me!
At the same time, thinking about the threat of losing my job these past few months has had its upside. God forbid, should it happen, it would give me some freedom to do the things I really want to be doing, but feel too much responsibility to actually do. There’d be no reason not to go to grad school, or start writing my book, or take on HPS as a full-time job – even if it meant living on disability to do it.
So, now we’ll see what happens.
Well, I can sing like a canary now! This week the official announcement was made – the magazine I work for has been sold to a new company. I can’t tell you how glad I am to have the whole thing over with, although there are still a number of details to be settled that are going to stress me out until they are actually settled.
First, the good part. I’m now a veteran of four buyouts (this being the fourth) and this is the first time our magazine has been bought because someone specifically wanted us. Before, we were always sold with the rest of the company and just came as part of the deal. We’ve never really been a perfect strategic fit for our owners – we were sort of the step children that came along for the ride.
But the new company wants us. They actually made an effort to buy us – not just a collection of magazines of which we were a part. I’m hoping that this is a really good omen for our future. We are actually a pretty good strategic fit with the new company.
Already it seems as though they are willing to invest in improvements, and that’s another good sign.
Although I certainly wasn’t involved in any of the negotiations for the deal, I’ve been terribly stressed out about it for months. Our parent company had decided to sell off the division we belonged to, except that we didn’t really fit with the other magazines. We were the odd duck. Our publisher wanted to buy us, which in many ways had its perks, but I was very concerned in other ways. It isn’t that I don’t mind working hard, but no one knows better than I do how short life can be, and I don’t want to work every living moment of my life (not to mention my HPS responsibilities.) I wasn’t really in the mood to be an entrepreneur, hanging out there on a limb without the selling and marketing and overhead backing of a larger company.
But, what would become of us? My company constantly assured me I had nothing to worry about. If the magazine should meet its demise, I was told they’d find a job elsewhere in the company for me. But would they really? Did they really understand that with my vision impairment, I can’t necessarily so easily trade in a mostly writing job for say, a production job. If push came to shove, would they really be able to find me anything?
And then there’s the whole matter of health insurance. My entire life pretty much revolves around my health insurance. I am not completely lacking in ambition, nor am I totally risk adverse. I’ve seen other opportunities I’ve wanted to follow, had other ideas about my future – but frankly, being without good health insurance is a serious matter for me. I’m not supposed to be doing this well, and I’m convinced that the reason I am doing as well as I am is because of my insurance. I can see specialists when I need them with no hassle. Although I feel like I’m single-handedly supporting the entire CVS chain, at least I can afford my medications (even if I can’t afford much else.) Without insurance, I’d be doing without medications. Needless to say, I’ve had a lot of anxiety about my health insurance lately.
That still is somewhat up in the air. It seems the company that purchased us has a plan for which everything in Kansas City is out of network. I have my current insurance until the first of the year, and hopefully by then the problem will be solved.
Then there’s the matter of where we would be working. I’d love to work from home. It would definitely require some changes to my office, but I think it would be much easier for me to manage my health issues if I worked from home. I could, for example, take a half hour nap if I needed it. Or, I could very easily change my ostomy when that skin ulcer thing is acting up. When I’m having female HPSish issues, I could more easily handle them here rather than in a public restroom.
But, they might decide to rent office space for us here. Us moving there has already been ruled out, although I’d happily move to Connecticut. This worries me from a transportation standpoint. It’s been really nice to be able to take the regular public bus!
Lastly there’s the issue of compensation. I am very much underpaid, I believe, and I’m hoping that new ownership with a real interest in our magazine might mean a raise. We’ll see – could be wishful thinking. But, I need a raise. No question.
Throughout this process I know my co-workers have thought I was over reacting about my concerns. This is one of those times when having a chronic illness just makes life different. It makes insurance more than a job benefit – it’s a lifeline. The fear of losing my job should a buyer just shut us down was terrifying in many ways. Try announcing to a new employer that you’ll be needing three weeks off a year, every year, to be in a clinical trial because you have what could become a life threatening illness. Oh yeah. That sounds like a major selling point. Hire me!
At the same time, thinking about the threat of losing my job these past few months has had its upside. God forbid, should it happen, it would give me some freedom to do the things I really want to be doing, but feel too much responsibility to actually do. There’d be no reason not to go to grad school, or start writing my book, or take on HPS as a full-time job – even if it meant living on disability to do it.
So, now we’ll see what happens.
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