Recently, I went to a small outdoor concert to hear Brett Young, an artist with a great voice and a knack for storytelling. One song, "Chapters," caught my attention because of its autobiographical reference to his early life as a standout baseball pitcher with dreams of playing professionally. A career-ending elbow injury changed everything. It made me think about the chapters in our own lives, especially the chapters in a business's life.
This past year has been the most stressful year of my career, second only to the year we opened our practice. My husband and business partner decided to retire to make room for a new graduate to buy into the practice. That alone would have been a significant change, but there was more.
Our tech of 29 years had a 6-week battle with cancer and passed away. You don't realize how much institutional knowledge someone carries or how deeply they’ve become woven into the fabric of a workplace until they're suddenly gone.
After 33 years with us, another tech retired earlier than planned to care for her husband, who was battling multiple forms of cancer. He passed away late this summer. A newer staff member accepted a position with an optometric practice closer to home when her commute became too much. An optician has given notice because she intends to move. We have hired new people. Some have fit. Some have not. I miss the days when our "newest" staff member had been with us for 10 years.
These are the chapters in the life of a practice.
This year has reminded me that managing change is really about managing people through change. One of the simplest lessons I've relearned is this: No one ever complains that there is too much communication during times of uncertainty.
Tell people what is happening. Tell them what you know. Tell them what you don't know. Ask how they are doing, listen to the answers, and acknowledge that change is hard. One particularly hard day, I told a staff member, "I'm grieving too” during a conversation. She stopped talking and really looked at me. In that moment, I was no longer her boss, but someone vulnerable about loss alongside her.
I've also been reminded that the most important assets in our practice aren't our equipment, our building, our technology, or even our doctors. They are our people. Our employees know our patients. They know our systems. They remember why we do things the way we do. They answer the phone, calm frustrated patients, solve the unexpected problem, and keep things moving on days when nothing seems to go according to plan. Without them, our practices don't thrive or even function.
Perhaps leadership is recognizing that we don't get to keep every chapter forever. Life changes the story for us. But turning the page doesn't diminish the importance of the chapter that came before it.
I'm grateful for the people who helped write the previous chapters of our practice. Their fingerprints will remain on our business for years to come. And now, with gratitude for what was, we begin writing the next chapter. OM
