Microstory 2529: Settlement Specialist

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I was one of the first people to work at the Foundation, I’m proud to say. I’m the one who came up with my own job title. They wanted to call it a Cashier, because that’s the best they could come up with, but it’s not really accurate. No one is paying up little enough money to warrant dealing with cash, and we absolutely can’t payout in cash either, even at the smallest figures. We will agree to write you a check if you really think you can handle it, but we don’t even like that. I’m not saying that scammers and muggers hang around our hotel, waiting to steal people’s money because they know that’s what we do here, but it’s not like it’s a secret, so it’s entirely plausible. We really prefer direct deposit, but we understand that not everyone is banked. This is why we’ve partnered with WinterTree Bank to offer clients prepaid debit cards for their financial needs. They’re useless without the PIN, and can be reloaded at the ATM should they like to deposit any other cash they do receive, or a paycheck. While the Financial Evaluators determine how much a patient owes or receives, and the Accounts keep track of our finances overall, I’m responsible for making sure that money goes in, or comes out, accordingly. Once Landis finishes his healing, they come to me, or one of my teammates. We verify their ID, we confirm with them and their Guide that they did indeed receive a breath treatment, and we explain to them what the computer says about their situation. People who are making a pay-up know roughly how much money it’s going to be, but the people receiving payouts are not provided with this information ahead of time. They are quite often rather surprised. Sometimes it’s good news, and sometimes not, though, because some were hoping for a little bit of money, when it turns out they don’t qualify for either. They don’t have to pay, but they’re not getting any money either. You need to have thick skin working this job, and you need to know how to handle stress. It can be quite the roller coaster. It’s usually rewarding. For people receiving money from us, it’s almost always so much more than they dreamed of getting. But it can be hard when they’ve heard rumors of how much some people are getting, and their case doesn’t match up with their hopes. It’s a little like gig jobs, where the company will advertise that you can make up to a thousand dollars in one day, when really, that’s something that happened to one driver once, who happened to keep being at the right place at the right time, and it still didn’t give him health insurance. Even so, for the most part, the patients are grateful, even the ones who pay-up, because they’ve just been healed, and that puts most people in a good mood. This job is worth the uncertainty.

Microstory 2528: Unhoused Patient

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I have some sort of disease that I can’t pronounce, and I don’t like to talk about it. They diagnosed me at the free clinic because I was having these phantom pains all over my body. They say it’s neurological. Or I should say that they said that, because I don’t have it anymore. Yeah, I heard about this Tipton fellow, and didn’t think it had anything to do with me. Why would they take some raggedy aging woman who lives on the streets? I mean, I didn’t even get that far in my thinking. I heard the news on the radio, shrugged, and then moved on with my life. A few years later, I was sitting in the park, which I do every Tuesday, because that’s when they water the plants, which soaks the soil, which brings up the worms, which brings down the birds. I know, I’m a bit of a stereotype, but who doesn’t like birds? Anyway, I was just sitting there when this social worker comes up and tells me about a program which assists unhoused people in applying to be healed at the Foundation. I said, “you’re crazy. We live in Denver. How the hell am I gonna get all the way out there anyway?” He said that they offer transportation too. I asked him what church he was with, and he said none. This is just something the city wants to do to help out. I was, like, “okay. Sign me up. Literally!” Then I laughed, and he laughed too. And wouldn’t you know it, they actually followed through on their promise. Now, I don’t wanna sound too cynical, but you know how cities feel about their homeless. I’m sorry, you’re supposed to say unhoused these days. You know how they feel about their unhoused. They don’t like ‘em, and they wanna get rid of them. And sometimes what they do is just bus them out to a different area. I don’t know, maybe that was happening here too, but the Foundation is a real thing, and my application was real too. They gave me a burner phone so I could get my information, which told me where to go, and when to be there. I sat in the room, and I waited in line, and this kid breathed on me. But it doesn’t stop there. After I left the room, they guided me to a cashier, or whatever, who gave me money. They set me up with a special card that’s specially designed for people without easy access to a normal bank. I haven’t had a bank account in fourteen years and don’t trust them anymore. I thought they were joking, but dammit if I didn’t end up with $18,000 dollars all for me. Can you believe it? They paid me to take the cure. These people are nuts. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, I kept my mouth shut, and walked away with my card. I never went back to Denver, because there’s nothing there for me. I got myself some affordable housing, took a shower or two, and now I’m currently looking for a job. Let me know if you know anyone who wants to hire a 54-year-old formerly unhoused woman who still doesn’t have a car, but did once work as a secretary for a plastics manufacturer. This new money is great, but it ain’t gonna last forever.

Microstory 2527: Poor Patient

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I used to clean toilets for a living, which speaks both to my financial situation, and my medical problems. For years, I was asked to do my job with a cleaning solution called Bartho’s. You may have heard about them in the news recently. It was discovered that Bartho’s included a chemical known as diacetyl. They were aware of its harmful effects when inhaled, but deliberately kept it off of their ingredient list. That is a huge no-no, and it’s why we’re going to win this class-action lawsuit no matter what Henderen Co. says about the ultimate solution to their gross negligence. Can you believe that they actually point to Landis Tipton as the reason why the case should be dismissed? They claim that their clear violation of safety laws doesn’t matter now that any disease that might have been caused by their mislabeled products can be cured with a simple breath. Oh, that’s not gonna fly. Not everyone has access to the cure, and even if we did, that doesn’t mean they didn’t break the law. It’s not even about the money; it’s about the injustice. Money, I have now. As a patient at the Foundation with low income, I was awarded roughly $6,000 dollars in addition to my healing. There were no stipulations or hoops to jump through. I sent them my bank statements, and they gave me free money. It’s just this extra little thing that they do. I don’t understand how the model works, but I think it all comes down to the fact that it’s a non-profit. From what I hear, it’s relatively easy for them to pay for their expenses. It’s therefore easier to charge the wealthiest patients up the wazoo, and give any extra they end up with to people like me. If you think about it, it’s not that crazy. Billionaires get sick too, and they may have access to better health resources, but there’s only so much you can do. Five years ago, very few diseases had been cured. So they can afford thousands, or even millions, of dollars to save their lives. They were probably paying more for persistent treatment, so for them, it’s still a great deal. And it supports everyone else. Which, if they have a problem with, they probably don’t deserve to be healed. Anyway, I’m still scrubbing toilets, but now maybe my son can go to college.

Microstory 2526: Middle Class Patient

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When the Foundation first made the rounds in the news, I both was skeptical, and didn’t think it applied to me. I exercise every day, even if it’s just a thirty-minute walk, and I always eat healthy. I get plenty of fiber, and the right ratio of my macronutrients. I’ve never had a problem with vegetables, even as a kid. Unfortunately, none of that mattered, because I was born with higher susceptibility to Hereditary Chorea. You can look up what that is, and what it does to your body, but it’s a genetic disease that there’s nothing you can do to stop it. It doesn’t matter how you live your life, or what exams and procedures you have done in your youth. You’re born with it, and only time will tell if you develop it. You can get tested to see if you have the gene, but you’re unlikely to even request such a test if you have no reason to suspect that it runs in your family. I was adopted by a very nice and soft-spoken man who I love very dearly, and the only thing I realized too late that I was missing in my life was the right kind of information. I never cared what happened to my birth parents. I was abandoned in a crackhouse as a baby, so family services had no idea who my mother was, let alone my father. I never had any interest in locating my birth mother, but looking back, I probably should have, for this reason, and this reason alone. I didn’t know that the disease runs in my family, and I still don’t know which side of the family it’s on. It could be both, for all we know. Had we thought to get me tested, I could have been better prepared for it. Very specifically, I would have chosen not to have children. Do not misunderstand me, I love my kids immensely, but I unwittingly placed them at risk simply by having them. That was the hardest part after the onset of my symptoms, worrying that one or both of them would suffer as I did when they got to be my age. I was so relieved when I started hearing proof that Landis was the real deal, and not some charlatan selling snake oil. I honestly didn’t think I would get the chance for a cure. I hoped that my children would have better chances when they were older. Then my thoughts darkened again, because I thought, what if Landis dies before my kids get the chance to be cured? How big is our window here? Then the news continued, and we found out about the panacea research, and I felt grateful again. If I died before they completed such research, I could leave this world confident that my young ones would likely grow up to a world with no disease. Obviously I applied for my own healing anyway, because I certainly didn’t want to leave them, and that’s how we’re here today. I put in a lot of work preparing my family for a future without me. Now I have to walk a lot of that back, and consider where we go from here. Not that I’m complaining. It’s a good problem to have.

Microstory 2525: Rich Patient

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I am no stranger to charity. I have always been on this side of it. I was born into a wealthy family of business moguls. I can’t tell you exactly what our family does, because we have our hands in a lot of different cookie jars. My ancestors liked to invest in ideas, and they were very good at telling the difference between the great ones and the stinkers. Most people in my family have kept the tradition alive, and invest in whatever they think will be the most profitable. They are not saints, but I wouldn’t call them evil either. We didn’t make our money on great instincts alone. Research is the name of the game, and we pride ourselves in supporting ethical and sustainable companies over get-rich-quick schemes that some of our contemporaries are involved in. You’ll notice, I sometimes separate myself from my family, and sometimes lump myself in with them. The truth is that I’ve never been that interested in this kind of work. It’s oh so boring. I like that we do research, but I don’t like to do it myself, so to maintain the integrity of our practices, I have simply chosen to opt out. I’m lucky to have parents who allowed me to do this, and did not insist on me following in their footsteps. They actually had a lot of children for this reason. It might sound so calculated, but really, they were just practical. Instead of having one kid, and hoping they turned out exactly how they dreamed, they played the odds. They knew that the chances of one of us being like them went up the more they had. It ended up only being four, so don’t think they went crazy, or anything, and lucky them, three of them are all in. It’s really only I who chose a different path. I’m not entirely removed. I’m entitled to a trust fund, just as my siblings are, which I use to support my philanthropic endeavors. And you know what? My siblings do the same, but in their own way. They don’t wanna have to judge people, and determine what kind of charity they deserve, or how much, so they just give me the money, and I donate accordingly on their behalf. It’s a truly symbiotic relationship. I’m still quite a bit different than them. I open my own car doors, which my chauffeur keeps forgetting, and I raised my own kids with no help beyond my husband, and a few babysitters here and there. A few years ago, I was diagnosed with a condition called Idiopathic Pulmonary Fibrosis. That first word means that they don’t know what caused it. So it’s no one’s fault. I have had it all this time while the Foundation was running, but I hesitated to apply for a healing. I’ve never called myself old, but I’m no spring chicken either. I honestly could have died at any time while I pursued typical treatment. I just didn’t want to butt in. So many other people needed help, and I didn’t want to take anyone’s slot. I admire Landis for developing a fair system that didn’t prioritize people like me, but it still felt so icky. Then something changed. I had grandchildren. Two twin girls. I decided that I wasn’t just fighting for my life, but for the time I could spend with them. So I applied, and got my healing. I don’t know how long I would have survived without it, but...not long. I was likely weeks away from expiring. Did you know, because of all of my charitable donations, they wanted to classify me as a no-pay? I wouldn’t have it. It goes against my entire being. I insisted they recategorize me for pay-up, so I could contribute my fair share. I didn’t give them all my money, since I need to leave some for my family when I finally do die, but I think I helped keep the lights on for a few more days. It’s the least I could do.

Microstory 2523: Health Coach

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Currently, everyone whose application is accepted by the Landis Tipton Breath of Life Foundation is entitled to a single healing session. No plans have been made to heal the same person more than once. Research is pretty minimal in this area. It’s not that they’re not running the studies, but they’ve been hush-hush about it. I want to be absolutely clear that we have no reason to believe that Landis’ healings are anything but permanent. If you’re suffering from anything when he gets his breath on you—even if it’s multiple things—they should be healed permanently. We have never heard of anything coming back. That said, what is unclear is how comprehensive the healing is to a person’s future health. I mean, you can get a terminal infection that he cures, only to later be diagnosed with cancer. I’ve never heard of any specific case, but that doesn’t tell me anything. The Foundation does not keep track of its past clients beyond making sure they do not attempt to apply a second time. We don’t check in on them, or send out periodic surveys. Any research done into how past patients are faring are being done by unrelated third parties, and are unendorsed by Landis Tipton, or the Foundation. Really, it has nothing to do with us. We don’t have the resources to track all of that data, and this decision was made long ago. That’s why I have a job, because while Landis can heal just about anything, it’s up to you to maintain your health from now on. We understand that healthy living is not easy. Fresh produce is more expensive. Not everyone can afford an exercise machine, a gym membership, or the time to care for themselves. What I do is teach patients to do what they can. They’re starting from scratch here, which is positively unprecedented in history. Medical science knows so much more about how to stay healthy than it used to, and one area of research that has always struggled with is reaching that great starting point. Landis has given people that, and I urge every one of my patients to not take that for granted. My services are not required. My classes take place after your healing sessions, and are entirely optional. Once you get through that line, and you’re checked out, you can leave. But if you want to make sure that your healing doesn’t go to waste, come to me, and I’ll do everything I can to educate you on how to live a healthy life, so you don’t even have to worry about the fact that there are as of yet no third chances. I have been a doctor for thirty years, and have always kept up with advancements in my field. My colleagues in the same position have similar résumés. We know what we’re talking about, and we can help you. All you gotta do...is turn left before you leave.

Microstory 2522: Patient Advocate

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I don’t work for the foundation. I am a professional Medical Advocate working for a medical outreach agency, which is commonly employed for patients who need a little extra help navigating the process. I’ve been doing this job since long before the Foundation was even the spark of an idea. Some patients get confused, or know their personalities and skillsets well enough to not trust themselves with being solely responsible for their own medical data. A healthy fraction of such patients have family members or friends who can help them through such difficult and complex processes, but there are others who aren’t so lucky. My agency has a long history of providing chaperoning service to patients who don’t want to be in the exam rooms alone with their medical providers. We help them ask questions, and understand the answers. We help them make their follow-up appointments, and fill their prescriptions. This is typically a paid service that you can find all over the world, but we can do it free of charge for Breath of Life patients through a special program where the Foundation pays for our services on behalf of their neediest patients. Again, I don’t work for Landis, but I’ve become particularly familiar with their practices and procedures, and can help each client get through the process safely and comfortably. Some of them are suffering from dementia, or related conditions, and require that one-on-one care. I tell ya, this is the most rewarding job I’ve ever had. Before this, I did a lot of crying, because I was handling patients who were at their worst. They weren’t getting better, and many of them remained my clients until they died. I’ve been to a lot of funerals throughout the run of my career. Well, not anymore. All of my patients live now, which is something I never thought I would see in my lifetime. I watch as a client with Alzheimer’s becomes suddenly lucid, and in a way that is not going to be undone the next time she sneezes or closes her eyes. This is it. This is what people like me have been hoping for our entire lives. I absolutely love it when a client stops needing my services, not because they die or can’t afford it anymore, but because they’re healthy now. And it gets me every single time. I guess I’m still crying, but they’re tears of joy now. I feel for my colleagues in the industry who don’t work here, who are still going through what I was before. They wish they could have my job, but there are only so many positions. They’re excited about the panacea. Even though it will mean the end of their jobs, they can’t wait for it, because it’s the best outcome possible. I’m pretty excited about what the future holds too.

Microstory 2521: Queuer

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Guides and Queuers are two sides of the same coin. My co-workers are there to answer questions because they are a lot more knowledgeable about how all of this works. My primary responsibility is to literally keep the line moving. We maintain constant contact with each other, and coordinate to make sure the process is physically smooth while patients transition from one place to another. To do this job, you need to have great spatial reasoning, and the ability to count a group of people extremely quickly. Has a job interviewer ever asked you that before? Did you ever study that in school? It’s not as easy as it sounds. Counting heads is just something you have to practice, but it’s vital to our job of making sure everyone is in the right place at the right time. We simultaneously don’t want too many people, or too few. It wastes everybody’s time, including both patients and staff. Landis can only heal one person at a time, so it’s up to the rest of us to make sure each next person is ready to go once he’s done with the last one. It’s stressful and chaotic, but I find it quite invigorating. The line never ends until the end of the day, but man, once we get there, it’s so satisfying. You don’t even know. One by one, the last of the patients step through that door, and you feel like you’ve completed a puzzle. And this happens every single day. Well, I mean, I don’t always have the post-lunch shift, so I don’t always see the end, but then I saw the beginning, and either way, it’s rewarding to keep people moving through that queue. Since you have to be good at counting people, and at recognizing them—so you don’t start giving people the same instructions they already heard, or asking them duplicate questions—you really see the progress you’re making. One after another; Bob, then Sue, then Sally, then Manuel. They walk up, go in, and disappear, never to be seen again. If you notice the same person too many times, you’re probably not coordinating them correctly. If you don’t ever notice the same person more than once, you’re probably not fit for the job. It’s all about balance. That’s what I tell people. I’m a balance worker. Moving lines, adjusting stanchions, filling waiting rooms as soon as they’re emptied of the group before. It’s a delicate dance that would probably make for a good show if you could see it from a God’s eye view. And I get to be one of the choreographers.

Microstory 2520: Guide

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Once you walk into the building, and get checked in with one of the greeters, you can ask me for help. There are a ton of us, patrolling and stationed strategically around the floor, ready to provide assistance. There’s at least one in every waiting room, one in the auditorium, several in the mainline. Outside, inside, topside. If you’re thirsty, we’ll get you water. If you don’t know where the nearest restroom is, we’ll escort you there. If you were in line when you had to step out, we’ll have a queuer keep track of where you were, and put you back in it at the right place. We can also answer questions about the history of the Foundation, and behind-the-scenes information. We know where you need to be, and where you’re going, and who you will be dealing with. Guides are friendly, knowledgeable, and always ready to take action. We get a ton of steps, so there’s one advantage. Since our job requires moving around so much more than others, we enjoy a very special exception. We’re entitled to injury healings. Hold for gasps. For the most part, Landis does not handle cuts and broken bones. They may hurt, and they may even be life-threatening, but because of the acute time constraint involved in the most severe cases, the responsibility falls squarely on traditional medicine. It will get your application immediately rejected, even before you upload your medical and financial records. Some applicants have actually gotten real upset about that, because they also had a chronic illness, and figured they should include the normal injury along with it to be the most accurate. Don’t do it. Anyway, that’s not really the point. I’ve kind of made it sound like guides and queuers are getting injured left and right, but really, it’s more like a benefit in our insurance package. It’s there if we need it, and while it has happened before, we rarely need it. Mostly, the only people who ever had to use it were either exhausted or dehydrated. I recall one guy who twisted his ankle, and another was straight up punched in the face by a patient companion who was trying to defend her mother against another patient. But those were extreme circumstances. If necessary, we are allowed to cut in line to get it completed, but that’s only when we can’t continue our shift without it. Since it almost never happens, it might seem like a small thing, but I think it speaks to the culture of our organization. The leaders understand that there are exceptions to every rule. It’s important to maintain order and fairness, but that doesn’t mean being overly strict and inflexible. It’s also just kind of cool being a little bit more special on a staff of a very special Foundation.

Microstory 2519: Greeter

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People hear my job title, and think that all I do is smile and wave at the patients as they come in. Whoa-ho-ho, that ain’t it. You come to me, you give me your name and ID, and I check you in. I make sure that you’ve come within your appointment window, and aren’t trying to jump the line, or that you’re late. I then send you to a waiting room based on availability. Once one room gets full, I’ll move onto the next one. So don’t go thinking that there’s anything connecting you with the other patients in your room. People have come back out and complained, because they get to talking with one another, and decide that some patients are less needy than others. That’s not what’s happening here. You’re grouped based on time, as was the appointment window in the first place. We encourage you to make friends while you’re waiting, and bond over your shared experience, but don’t imagine that the group you end up with says anything about what we think of you. I don’t know why I have to say all this, but I do. I would certainly never call mine the hardest job at the Foundation, but it’s not as easy as people think, so I always want to clarify that a nice smile is not all you need to do it. You will get belligerent people here, who feel entitled to certain accommodations, and as the first person they encounter, you will receive a lot of that hostility. It doesn’t happen every time. Ninety-nine out of a hundred patients are perfectly lovely. But it does happen sometimes, and it makes it hard to maintain that smile. I do it, because it’s important, and that’s what’s expected out of me. It’s not terribly complicated, so there’s really nothing more to say about it, but we’re always looking for new greeters, because we do have a shockingly high turnover rate compared to other departments. So if you think you can handle the stress, please apply. People think that operations are winding down because the panacea is close, but that is not what I’m hearing. The Foundation may never close. There may be a persistent market for direct healings, and obviously, it’s not up to me. It’s a decent job with great pay, and it’s really nice to just live right upstairs, so don’t let the news discourage you. Even if it doesn’t last forever, it covers any gap you might otherwise have in your résumé, and the Foundation shutting down is definitely a better reason for it to end. Most of the time, I bet your job ended because you were let go, right? That doesn’t really happen here, so just something to think about.

Microstory 2518: Daily Coordinator

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I am in charge of patient experience. The Appointment Coordinator is technically my superior, but she doesn’t have time to manage our department’s staff, so that falls to me. While the automated system is great for setting up appointment windows, what it can’t do is make sure that people actually show up for their appointment, or more importantly, don’t show up outside of their window. When your application is approved, you’re assigned a two-hour window on a particular day. If you can’t make it, you need to pull your application, and try again. It may sound like it helps us for people to show less urgency, but it overcomplicates the process. Just come when it’s your time. If you fail to show up, your name will be flagged, and your reapplication will be a lot more complicated. Don’t. Be. Late. That’s why we have the campground, and why nearby landowners literally built new hotels to help mitigate visitorship. I have to keep track of 2,000 people every day. The greeters will check you in, and tell you where to go, which sometimes means going right back out that door if you come before your window. I have it all set up real nice. Part of the first floor is dedicated to waiting rooms, where you wait with your group of 40 to 45 other people. Yeah, that’s right, we know how to break it down. Forty-five people per room with a total of eight rooms equals a maximum of 360 people in each two-hour window. While you’re sitting there, we may call you up individually to confirm some information, such as your financial situation. We got to keep things moving, so when your room is called, you’ll all proceed to the auditorium, where you’ll watch the orientation video. Don’t ask the host any questions. That’s what my guides and queuers are for. When the video is over, depending on the timeline, you’ll either go back to your waiting room, or go ahead and get in line. People have asked why the line is so long, and why they can’t just wait in the rooms. Well, it’s because Landis averages three patients per minute, but that doesn’t mean we record exactly three every time. Some people have mobility issues, and we experience other delays. If there’s a problem with your candidate profile, you may be bumped down to another group. That all takes time, and we don’t want to waste any of it. We don’t want Landis to be sitting there with no one to heal for an extended period of time. It’s gonna be hard, waiting through all of this, but it is absolutely worth it, because when you’re done, you’ll probably feel better than you ever have in your whole life. If everything goes smoothly, we might get the full 2,160 patients, but we usually don’t, and for that, we apologize. You will not miss out on your healing, though, so don’t fret. Any remainders at the end of the day will end up in Group One for the next day, and we might ask you to come in earlier than normal operating hours to make up for it. I know, I sound really blunt, and maybe a little aggressive, but this job is not easy, and if I take the time to be too polite and nice, we get behind schedule, and I can’t allow that.

Microstory 2517: Campground Manager

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Even though it’s not my department, I do receive daily updates from the hotel about how they’re faring in there. I know how many people got in line, and how many people were cured. Those numbers are usually quite close together, with only a handful of people who ever have to wait until the next day. They’re obviously marked as such, and prioritized in the morning. Delays are built into the schedule, but it’s never perfect. In fact, if it ever gets to be too much, Landis will work extra hours to make up for it. That’s just the kind of guy he is. I’ve never met him. We’re worlds apart. I’m one of the few staff members who does not have a room in the building, and in my case, it’s a necessity. I’m on the clock 24/7, and always have to be available to the guests. People come from far and wide to get their cure. They encourage visitors to check into nearby hotels (which are still hotels, and not healing foundations). For these places, that’s just about all they do. You’re gonna have a hard time finding a room if you just wanna take a tour of the area. They’ll ask you to find somewhere close to the city. While there’s no rule against it for these unrelated facilities, there is one for the campground. We will not assign you a plot if you aren’t scheduled for a healing in the next week at the most. We understand that some people want to come early, because they’re worried about travel delays, which is why the campground exists in the first place, but we can’t have people living here for weeks on end. We certainly can’t accommodate people who just want to be ready to go while they wait for their application to be processed. I promise you, once you’re accepted, you will have plenty of time to make arrangements for travel. There is no such thing as a same-day appointment here. I hear so many requests for that. Everybody wants to be bumped up the list. First of all, I don’t have that kind of pull. I just manage the plots, and the tents for people who can’t afford their own. Secondly, everyone in the world wants to get in on this, and Landis can only see about 2,000 people per day. There are no bribes here. There are no special accommodations. Everybody’s sick, we are not going to prioritize based on need. The only fair way to do it is on a first come, first serve basis. The amount of coordination that would go into quantifying patients for triage is an unreasonable expectation to have for any organization. You would be waiting for years, just like people have done for organ transplants through conventional medicine. Is that what you want? Trust me, it’s better if you sign up, and snag an appointment a few weeks out. Application control comes from the scope of the application itself. If you just have a boo-boo on your knee, or you’re unwilling to divulge your financial situation, it’s going to slow things down. Only people who are serious about this are going to get through, which is why the 2,000 patient per day figure isn’t too much lower than the applicant per day figure—whatever that is; I don’t have those numbers. I know, I’m talking a lot about things that don’t really have anything to do with me, but that’s because my job isn’t that hard. A lot of this is self-service. We don’t provide meals, we don’t offer travel to and from. I’m mostly here to make sure the only people who try to drive through that gate are authorized, and that we have enough space for everyone. I don’t even handle security. Don’t get me wrong; it’s a lot of work, and it gets tough in the winter, but it’s pretty straight-forward, and far less stressful than it is for some of my colleagues. They may get to work inside, but I wouldn’t want to field the kind of questions they get every day.

Microstory 2516: First Coordinated Patient

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Everyone in my family calls me the guinea pig, or the first patient, but that is not entirely true. The reason Mr. Tipton was able to purchase the hotel was because of his very first patient. But even he probably wasn’t really his first. This wasn’t in the patient introduction video, but I bet Landis experimented a little bit with his abilities. You have to understand your limits, so he would have made a little burn mark on a friend’s shoulder, or had him fall from the second story. No, I dunno. I’m making stuff up. I just don’t want to go down in history as some special case. Back in the early days of this foundation, they weren’t yet a well-oiled machine. The way they have it set up now, a lot of the process is automated, and you get your little arm band, and you stand in a snaking line between the stanchions. It has to be. You got more people requesting healing per day than Landis can handle. There’s really no way to scale up this operation. When all the magic comes from one guy, you’re gonna hit a bottleneck. It wasn’t like that for me. They started out a little slow, partially because they had to figure out how they were going to organize the process, but also because people didn’t really believe it. Sure, you had one of the richest men in the country claim that he was cured, and many people believed it, but so many more figured it was a stunt. Maybe the original medical records were forged, or the post-healing ones were. Or maybe it was all a misunderstanding. There was no way to be sure. It took people like me to be brave enough to go for it without proof. I’ve always been like that, though. Life is meant to be lived; not scared of. The way it works is if you’re rich, you pay, if you’re middle-class, it’s free, and if you’re poor, they pay you. That was always the plan, but they didn’t yet have the infrastructure when I signed up. They didn’t yet have the relationships with the banks to verify a patient’s private financial situation. So for the first few months, it was all on the honor system. Of course, I am rich enough. I actually think I qualified for middle-class at the time, so I shouldn’t have paid anything, but it didn’t matter. If I wasn’t paying Breath of Life for the cure, I was paying the hospital for the treatment. At least Landis could actually fix me. There was no guarantee, since like I said, we only had evidence back then; not proof, but obviously it was worth it. Since then, I’ve been donating a little bit of money to them every month. A lot of people don’t know that. You can just support them without getting anything out of it as a secondary source of revenue for them. Everything they receive, they put back into the system to keep the place running. I won’t tell you what disease I had, because the way I look at it, it never happened. When you get breast cancer, you can go into remission, but you can’t be cured. It’s always there, and you’re always scared of it coming back. But what I had, it’s completely gone, and I was restored to perfect health, so it’s like it was never there. Naming it won’t do any good. Landis Tipton. From now on, that’s the only name you’ll ever need to remember when it comes to your health.

Microstory 2515: Appointment Coordinator

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Hello. I have been the Appointment Coordinator here for about two years. Before that, I was the Assistant Appointment Coordinator, which is a position that is no longer offered at the Foundation. Don’t worry, no one was fired. My boss, who had this job before me, had to move with his family to a different part of the country. His son secured a job working at a prestigious university, and the family wanted to stay together, even though the son is obviously fully an adult now. We’re still friends, and stay in contact. There is a reason why my previous job wasn’t backfilled, and it’s because it’s no longer necessary. Over time, we’ve incorporated more and more technology—specifically artificial intelligence—into our operating procedures. We are nowhere near a place where the application process is automated, but I no longer get a look at most appointments. I predominantly handle what we call Appeals. When you apply to get a healing from Landis, the system goes through a number of checks. First, it needs to confirm your identity, which you do either with a credit card, or facial recognition. You have to upload your medical records to make sure that you legitimately have a condition that even qualifies for healing. The system has to handshake a number of various medical databases to confirm this legitimacy. If we’re not partnered with your provider, you will have to upload your documents to them instead. We don’t need your entire life’s story. We don’t need to know every time you went in for a broken arm. We just need to know what’s wrong with you now, and what—if anything—you’ve done for it in regards to treatment so far. Similarly, you are expected to provide your financial records, and we have partnered with many financial institutions for the handshakes on that side of things too. We need to know if you’re rich, not-so-rich, or very not rich. That determines whether you pay for the procedure, or qualify for additional charity. I coordinate with other departments, like Patient Experience and Finance, to make sure everything has gone through smoothly. If everything is processed correctly, and there are no errors, the AI will find a slot for the candidate, give the patient all the necessary information, and everything will be ready to go. I only need to step in when an applicant is not only rejected, but also appeals this decision. We have an automated system for them to log their appeal too, but a human has to see all of that, so they can make a decision on the matter. I am that human. I look through every single appeal, and reach out to the applicant as necessary, as well as their associated institutions. I am not at liberty to divulge what percentage of applications are rejected, but if you think about it, I’m only one person. There is only so much time in a day, and I can only do so much with that time. Most rejections come from fraudulent claims, which the computer almost always catches appropriately. If I’m looking at it, it’s probably because the fraudster is still hoping to complete whatever scam they’re going for. I also can’t tell you how many appeals overturn the original decision, but...it’s very rare. It’s really only when there’s some missing data in the application that the computer couldn’t catch, because it doesn’t know what it wasn’t told. When this happens, I submit a reapplication, and it goes back through the automated system, but it’s flagged for me so I can keep an eye on the progress. In case it runs into another issue, it holds priority, and doesn’t end up at the bottom of the appeals list again. That’s just a little bit about what I do here. It’s a lot, but I absolutely love it.

Microstory 2514: Staff Supervisor

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I was one of the first people who Landis and the Director hired after all the contract work retrofitting the hotel was finished. He figured, if you’re going to start hiring people, you better find someone with experience doing that, so they can handle it for you. Prior to this job, I had eight years under my belt working in Staff Services at various organizations. I wouldn’t have called myself the best of the best, and that’s what Landis was looking for, I think. He was working with a tight budget, so he couldn’t waste all his seed money on someone who would demand mid-six figures. Don’t get me wrong, I knew what I was doing. He gave me a list of positions he thought that we would need to work the Foundation, I added to it, we collaborated, and I worked to fill out the staff. Unlike a lot of other startups, we kind of needed a full staff right away. We couldn’t just start with a few people, and grow our business gradually. As soon as the public even caught a wisp of a hint that there might be someone in Kansas who could possibly even plausibly come anywhere close to alleviating their conditions even just a little bit, we knew that they would arrive here in droves for help. We needed people to coordinate all the visitors, to manage all the finances, to care for the patients, to support Landis directly, to maintain the facilities, and to reach out to the community. We’ve added a few brand new positions since then, like the Research Liaison, and everyone in the Legacy Department, but for the most part, we had a solid idea of what today would look like. Yeah, I’m just looking at our old notes, and we were pretty spot on. We did the math, and determined how many people Landis could heal in one day, which gave us the number of workers we needed to keep track of them, and we’ve not had to go too far beyond that. This is the best job I’ve ever had, because I actually feel like I’m making a difference in the world. I count myself lucky to be on board, and I think pretty much everyone here would say the same thing. It’s my job to know these things. If someone were having a problem, I would know about it.

Microstory 2512: Very First Patient

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It’s true, I was Mr. Tipton’s very first patient, though no one used that term at the time. My company suffered a major blow when the truth came out that I was suffering from a terminal disease. Stock prices plummeted, and the board was worried that we would ultimately have to shut down. I wasn’t desperate, though. I was never desperate. I designed my company to operate without me, and I’ve never thought of it as being my responsibility, and mine alone. The market failed to understand my vision for a collaborative future, but they would have come to know the truth in time, and the company would have bounced back. Still. It’s not like I wanted to die. I spoke with all the experts, and tried all the reasonable experimental treatments. Nothing was working, but I’m an old man, and we all die eventually. I was understandably skeptical when these two young men approached me with the claim that they could cure me for good. But I listened to them, because I was intrigued, and I didn’t think it would do any harm. After a brief demonstration that involved Mr. Tipton’s associate stabbing himself in the arm, they only asked for $5,000 as a sort of down payment. Clearly, either they were master magicians, or it was true that Mr. Tipton could heal people, but he didn’t want to ask for all the money up front. Not to brag, but $5,000 was nothing to me. I decided that if this was all just some big scam, then these two deserved to be paid for being able to fool me, so I gladly paid it. They said, once my medical professionals proved that I was entirely disease-free, I could pay the remaining $10 million. I ended up giving them 15. Since it turned out to not be a scam at all, I felt like they definitely deserved the money. Compared to dying in a few months, I call that a bargain. Many believe that I am a silent partner in the Foundation, but I had nothing to do with it. I wasn’t investing in their future; it was just a straight payment. What they did with the money was none of my business. I’m pleased with their choice. They could have just as easily shot through to a beach resort, and gave the rest of us the middle finger, but they stuck around, and put in the hard work. So many more have benefited the way that I have, and even more will, if rumors of the panacea are even vaguely accurate. I’m proud to call myself the very first patient. That’s something that will always make me special. When I do finally leave this planet, my legacy will outlive me, thanks to one boy’s choice to include me in the very early days of his incredibly ambitious plan to heal the whole world.

Microstory 2500: Welcome to the Landis Tipton Breath of Life Foundation

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Welcome. And thank you all for coming to the Landis Tipton Breath of Life Foundation. In a few moments, I’m going to start the video, which will give you a more comprehensive idea of what we do here, and how our principles have guided our vision for the future. You all came to this place either because you are suffering from a debilitating or terminal disease, or you are chaperoning someone who is. You have all already filled out your preliminary applications, and would not be in this room if there were some reason to reject you. So congratulations, you’re about to be cured! Let’s go over some reasons why some people face rejection, so you’ll better understand why you were selected for treatment. First, we handle otherwise incurable diseases only here. We do not treat injuries. No one is here because they broke a leg, or suffered a cut on their cheek. Those are not life-threatening conditions, and conventional medicine should be able to help them. We also do not accept patients for holistic benefits. Someone who just wants to feel better overall will not be given a place in line. Landis also can’t treat what we like to call conditions of state. You may be considered overweight, by popular medicine, your doctor, or even yourself, but this is not an acute or chronic illness, and Landis is unable to make changes to these types of systemic issues. There is simply nothing to repair in these cases. It may be unhealthy, but nothing is broken, and in the end, that’s what Landis can do for us. He can fix what is broken, not simply make something more preferable.

It’s important to understand as well that, while you were granted allowance to add more than one medical issue on your form, Landis is unable to selectively decide which conditions are cured, and which are not. I doubt any of you would like him to leave anything out anyway, but we have to make it clear that if you left anything off of your form, it will not be excluded. If you have poor eyesight, but don’t care about that, Landis’ breath has no way of knowing that, or ignoring it. In fact, if you do happen to have some minor injury along with your illness, that will be cured too. The breath doesn’t choose. It is the program, and our policies, which choose what to spend Landis’ time on, but once you’re here, everything that can be repaired will be repaired. We have yet to find a disease that Landis cannot cure. Our mission is to one day rid the whole world of all disease and pain, but for right now, due to the sheer number of requests, we have to prioritize, and sacrifices must be made. I don’t say any of this to scare you, but to excite you for what’s to come. This is literally a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I know you’ve all been waiting for your chance to be healed of what ails you, even before this organization was founded. You’ve been through great hardship. I can’t tell you that life will be easy from here on out, but we can at least take this off your plate. Now, please sit back and relax while you watch the introductory video, which will provide you with a history of our foundation, beginning with the mystery of the origin of Landis Tipton’s powers, and explain how we are providing the community with more than just cures. We’re building the future, and finding a place for everyone in it.

Microstory 2309: Going to Peter Out

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There’s really nothing going on today. Buying a house involves a bunch of boring stuff that I don’t want to tell you about any more than you want to hear it. Selling one isn’t any more interesting. I had no idea that my life was headed in this direction. I’m only 18, and I’m already living alone. When I first started working at the nursery, I didn’t know what my career would be. I figured that it would be something in the medical field, but I wasn’t aware of all my options at the time. When I read the job description for Lifecare Assistant, I knew that that’s what I wanted to do, and I never changed my mind. I only stopped working because I became so involved in my first patient’s life, and then it all snowballed, and now here I am. Is this what I want to do now instead...nothing? I think I need to go back to work. I need to do something important every day. I saw Nick struggling to find purpose once he got all this money, but now I realize that he had it the whole time with his writing. He was just keeping it a secret from everyone. He wasn’t just lounging about. I can’t do that either. I need to contribute to the world, and not just through the charitable donations that I’m maintaining. Those handle themselves. I’m going to call the agency first thing tomorrow morning to see about getting back in rotation. It’s a national agency, by the way, so don’t think this means you know where I’m moving to. I’m sure a lot of you were hoping that—if it had to end—this blog would go out in a blaze of glory. But it looks like it’s just going to peter out. I think that’s okay.

Microstory 2280: Peaks and Valleys

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I’m back home, and feeling much better. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still in a lot of pain, and it’s difficult to move around, but this is a far superior environment. Man, I feel like I’m so out of touch these days, bragging about my large house, and private medical team. I never wanted to become this, but you have to admit, healthcare is better without all those other sick people. Jesus, what the hell! Why did I just say that? And why am I not deleting, and starting over with a more relatable tone? It would be really nice if this were how everyone lived. Or would it? How would that even work? Everyone’s rich, so they can hire a private home staff, but then who are these home staffers? This sounds like a caste system. So maybe there’s a happy medium between traditional healthcare, and private. I suppose things could get better and more comfortable for more people by improving the ratio. Fewer patients per medical professional would make it easier for each one to focus, and not be spread so thin. Maybe they could work shorter shifts, and have a better work-life balance too. Is that what I should do? Should I be concentrating all my money on healthcare reform? I’ve always thought that I should be distributing it across a number of causes, relatively evenly, but I’ve heard that it’s more productive in the long run if everyone chooses one or two causes to be passionate about. I dunno, I’ll need to see some numbers. In the meantime, despite my circumstances, things are looking up today. Watch, now people will start taking bets when the next bad thing will happen to me, and maybe what it will be. That’s how it always seems to go. Peaks and valleys. Peaks and valleys. Anyway, I’m going to put all that out of my mind, and just try to live in the moment. Nobody’s rethinking their charitable contributions today. Best not to make any big decisions while you’re on drugs, right?

Microstory 2279: Fine to Be Discharged

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Guess who surprised me with a visit today? That’s right, it was my old parole officer, Leonard Miazga. He’s been so busy, so we’ve only been able to text occasionally, but he’s felt like a bad friend, not checking in on me until now. It’s okay, I didn’t even think about it. It was nice to see him again, though. Other than that, I have nothing to update you on. Besides the medication issues the other day, my life doesn’t really change that much anymore. I lie in the hospital bed, and stare at the TV most of the time. I do my physical therapy in my own room, and out in the hallway, and sometimes do my exercises on my own without the therapist. Then I watch more TV. The nurses come in to give me meds, and check my vitals. It’s all very routine and unexciting. The hospital, my security team, and the police are not letting anyone come in for interviews, and trust me, they have been trying. Apparently, Leonard had a hard time getting through the human barricade, even though he was on a list of approved visitors. Ugh, I can’t wait to get out of here. I’m not one of those people who say that they “hate hospitals” as if that’s some kind of unique or rare personal characteristic to have. You’re not special. I know that’s mean to say, but no one likes death and disease. I just wanna go home because I’ve been here long enough, and I’m ready to sleep in my own bed. I think I can swing it pretty soon here. A normal person under these circumstances might struggle, but we have a little hospital of our own in our house, and a small medical staff, so it shouldn’t be too hard for me to convince the administrators that I am fine to be discharged.