Don Quixote Is A Scary Guy

I spent my entire day yesterday dealing with Don, the hurt guy. It started with a phone conversation in which he told me the insurance company had denied his claim and that he didn't understand why his foreman, his manager and I have "turned against him." I chose not to comment about either of those issues. He then wanted me to read to him the First Report of Injury he filled out the day he came to the office. Um, no. I told him that I've sent two copies and, if he didn't receive either of them in the next couple of days, we should make arrangements for him to come by and pick it up. Of course, that's the last thing I want to happen. I think registered mail is the answer here.

Don assured me that the injury was work related and that he just has a really, really, really high tolerance for pain. Well, if you say so, Don. Again, I chose not to comment. He disputed the date of injury as established by his foreman. Don's certain that only three days elapsed between hand fracture and noticing something was dreadfully wrong with that appendage. I pointed out numerous times that my only role in injury cases is to fill out the paperwork. That's not exactly true, but I don't feel impelled to be completely honest with Mr. Quixote.

Don ended the phone call by informing me that he's going to contact an attorney. Fine with me. I told him that it's certainly his right to do so. I wonder if he truly thought that threat would change anything. There's an established process by which one contests the insurance company's decision. Litigation isn't included in the options. Not for a while, anyway. Don will discover that soon enough.

I chewed through a lot of time filling out the interminable paperwork, writing letters and making copies for Don Quixote and the insurance company. I talked with the insurance rep several times and Hemorrhoid Guy a couple of times. We established that, since the job is completed, everyone (including Don) would be officially laid off as of yesterday afternoon. H Guy wanted to know if we should just let the union inform him of the change in his employment status. I advised that a phone call would be preferable and less likely to inflame an already tense situation.

It was then that the real news cropped up. When Don started working for our company a couple of months ago, he thought it wise to share with H Guy that he didn't voluntarily leave the state in which he formerly resided. The prosecutor in his home town told Don that, if he left the state and never came back, they'd drop all of the numerous domestic violence charges against him. Now why would you share that with a new employer? That Don, what a master of office politics.

Having lived 18 years in a very violent household, this news got my attention in a big way. Remember that Don has actually met me. If he's going to be violent with anyone, it will be me. Men who hurt women generally aren't brave enough to try to have physical confrontations with other men.

It strikes even me as a little much to fear retaliation against me. On the other hand, I've seen enough guys showing up at their former places of employment with a butt load of armaments to make me anxious. I issued an alert that Don must not be allowed in the building. I'm being more cautious when I arrive before the sun is up. I'm exercising more caution generally, for the time being. As silly as that seems.

Of course, some people do get hurt (and sometimes badly) through no fault of their own. I would never dispute those claims. However, it's worth noting that in the past ten years of worker's compensation duty, every time someone has told me how long they've worked in the industry, it's been followed by a very long and very expensive recuperative sojourn on the sofa.

All of this makes the pending nipple torture a lot more palatable. The conundrum of the day: Which is worse, dealing with Don or facing another episode of slice and dice? I'm in a quandary.

Important note: The full moon this month is known as "The Wolf Moon." That has to be a good omen, right?