3 Customer Service Lessons You Can Learn From Hospice Care

Originally posted 2/2/2015 on LinkedIn. David's father passed away 10/7/2015. 

We started home hospice care for my father three weeks ago.

The experience has been transformative for both of us; for my dad, hospice care has delivered a noticeable (albeit temporary) improvement in his condition, particularly the emotional side of it. He's clean, comfortable, peaceful, and as happy as one can be when the body is failing yet the mind remains as sharp as ever. 

For me, hospice care (aside from the tangible benefit of lifting the day-to-day burden of providing care for all of his myriad needs) has been eye-opening as a marketing professional. Over these three weeks, I've seen the power exceptional customer service has on the direct recipients.

To wit: 

1) THE RELATIONSHIP MATTERS MOST

The nurses and home health aides that come to my dad's house every day make a concerted effort on each visit to connect with my father. It's not simply "how are you feeling today, Elliott?" (his answer, in typical macabre humor, is "like I'm dying."). These nurses and home health aides draw him into conversation, whether it's about the snow and cold or the Super Bowl or the stories behind all the antiques, knickknacks and memorabilia he's collected and displays around the house. In doing so, they allow him to feel like himself again, to just be Elliott and not a cancer patient lying in a hospital bed in his den. They provide a necessary service for sure; they also provide an invaluable measure of dignity for him.

TAKEAWAY: Go beyond the superficial. Get to know your customers as people. Every one of us is unique; every one of us has a story to tell. It's much easier to add value when you inherently value the humanity of your customer.

2) EXCEED EXPECTATIONS

One of Elliott's primary caregivers is a lovely young woman named Nadia. Nadia and her family emigrated to the States from Ghana when she was 11 years old. In addition to performing her job responsibilities at a consistently high level, Nadia has surprised my father with a steak dinner from the restaurant where her sister works, and now brings him his favorite iced coffee from Dunkin' Donuts every morning. She spends time with him sharing stories of growing up in Ghana, and the difficult transition of coming to America on the cusp of her teenage years. She watches TV with him, encouraging him to remain current with the news of the world. She discusses what she's reading with him, and since he no longer has the energy to read the newspaper, she reads the headlines to him and gives additional details as he asks. Home health aides do a number of tasks that would seem gross to most of us while being paid a VERY moderate salary. All of these extra things, Nadia does of her own volition simply because it's good for her patient's emotional well-being.

TAKEAWAY: "Under promise and over deliver" is a cliche. Exceeding your customer's expectations requires effort. Do this well, and it appears effortless. How does your customer service exceed expectations? Are you going beyond the tangible requirements of your job to deliver intangible benefits to your customers? 

3) ATTITUDE IS EVERYTHING

There is a core team of nurses and home health aides caring for my father each day. Two different providers (one Medicare-provided, one privately contracted), three visits per day, seven days per week. The work is far from glamorous--sponge baths, incontinence care, meal preparation, laundry, dishes--yet without fail, each member of the team performs their duties with nary a complaint. I see them throughout the day (it's the benefit of living on the first floor of a two-family house). Each member of the team shows up on time, has a warm smile and a kind word for my father (and me, when we see one another) and a pat on the head for my dog Maxine. Nobody complains about their workload, or the traffic, or the snow or their personal problems. They are just firmly in the moment--it's a wonderful example of mindfulness in the workplace.

TAKEAWAY: YOU hold as much power in determining the quality of your day as your boss, your co-workers, or your customers do. HOW you approach your work makes a gigantic difference in whether it will be a positive, productive day or a gloomy, miserable day. And if you're reading this, it's highly unlikely you're earning $14.75 an hour to change adult diapers for a living. If you have a great attitude, your customers will notice it. If you have a bad attitude, your customers will notice that too...and probably won't be customers for very long (unless you're a cable company, but that's a rant for another time).

Does Your Customer Service Bring People To Tears?

The Boston Red Sox made a lifelong fan very happy this morning. Not by signing another free agent for gobs of money or by trading for an ace starting pitcher, but by offering a gesture of human kindness.

While he was hospitalized again a couple of weeks ago, I had a cleaning crew come and disinfect my father's house. Never a man overly concerned with personal hygiene, his illness and infirmaries had overwhelmed the house. It was unsanitary by any measure, and for a man in my father's condition, it was becoming dangerous. So the cleaning crew came in and did a remarkable job, using bleach and carpet shampoo and elbow grease to restore the house to a sanitary and fresh-smelling state.

However, in the course of this Superfund-like cleanup, a couple of decorative towels that my father prized were inadvertently thrown away. One was a big Red Sox towel that he'd received as a promotional item some years ago--my dad was a 40-year season ticket holder (Section 16, Row JJ, Seat 5) and remains a passionate fan. This towel was a tangible connection to the days before he got sick and his illness robbed him of the freedom to go to games every night of the week, sneaking in Chinese food from Chef Chang's House and kibbitzing with the ushers, all of whom he knew from his years as a regular.

Last Saturday, after I brought him home from this latest hospitalization, he was crestfallen at the loss of his towel. It was another piece of his former life that was taken away, another piece of a puzzle he cannot make sense of anymore.

After two more days of listening to his sadness, I emailed the Red Sox with a brief description of the situation and a request that if a similar towel or blanket was available, I'd be happy to pay for it. I just wanted to replace what he lost. Twenty-four hours after sending this email, a representative from the Sox' customer service team named Phil Derick replied with a very nice note and a promise to take a look and send something along.

This morning, I handed my dad a FedEx box containing a lovely Red Sox/Fenway Park tapestry and a handwritten note from the Red Sox wishing him well. He was moved to tears by the gesture. Quite frankly, so was I--he doesn't have many moments of sheer happiness these days; tears outweigh smiles by a wide margin. The tapestry is out on display so he can look at it whenever he wants, and enjoy the bittersweet memories of what were his halcyon days.

"Customer Service" has become a catchall term for any interaction between brand and consumer. Yet truly great customer service is delivered by resolving problems for customers one by one and taking advantage of opportunities to deliver genuine delight to individual customers, solely for the sake of doing so. Today, the Boston Red Sox provided my little family with a customer service experience that will never be forgotten, and for this I am grateful beyond words.

Originally published 12/22/2014 on LinkedIn. David's father passed away 10/7/2015. 

The Granular & The Grand

"That's a very tactical element David. Let's talk about the overall organizational structure and how our software fits into that." 

I'm paraphrasing, but the above quote is the essence of a very frustrating conference call I participated in recently. (Conference calls as the bane of our collective professional existence is a topic for another day). 

Let's say you've got a software platform that you believe in strongly. You think your software platform is revolutionary/disruptive/best-in-class/paradigm-shifting/supercalifragilisticexpialidocious/whatever today's hot corporate buzzword may be. You're CERTAIN it's better than anything else on the market, and you're not shy about speaking disdainfully about competitive platforms. What happens?  

  • You don't bother to listen to the feedback. 
  • You adopt a defensive posture throughout the conversation.
  • You spend 45 minutes attempting to verbally retrofit a client's organizational structure into your software, because you're CONVINCED if they'd just do it your way they'll see the proverbial light. 
  • You arrogantly dismiss the legitimate concerns expressed about the existing functionality of the platform that this client uses most frequently, because "the tactical stuff isn't our strongest feature." 

Here's the thing: if you're positioning your product as the most comprehensive marketing software in the market, able to tie together teams from across all internal marketing disciplines, and enable a highly efficient day-to-day execution system(including social media management), the tactical is critical.

Taking an overarching approach to building this tool, having a grand design from the top down when architecting the platform...go for it. That's how you should approach it. But when it comes down to how specific users will be tasked with using it every single day...you'd better make damn sure that those granular elements are in place and adjust the software as feedback from those users is provided. Otherwise, your grandiose idea falls flat in the practical execution. 

<Rant Over>

Originally posted 7/27/2015 on LinkedIn