Ambush

One of the first things I had drilled into me when I first started dipping my toes into the madcap world of organizational change was that you never, ever, “ambush” someone in a meeting with questions they are not prepared to answer. This was particularly important in cases when you had concerns or questions about something another person in the meeting was attempting to accomplish. These types of discussions, I was told, should ideally happen before the meeting so that when you go in front of the rest of the group you were presenting a “unified front.”

In other words, you and the other person hash your issues out in a meeting-before-the-meeting, come to an understanding, and then go and present your decision to the group as the “right” decision.

This scenario is one of the many reasons why I have a long-standing reputation as a person who hates meetings. It represents a fine example of collaboration theater, and it is just as wasteful as the meeting-after-the-meeting where decisions that were supposedly made tend to get undercut.

I have been trying to get my head around why this happens for years, and I have landed on what I think are a few main reasons, but they all tend to circle back to two root causes – Lack of psychological safety, and lack of trust.

Psychological safety gets tossed around a lot these days, and I feel like the importance of the notion has been dampened as a result. It seems like there is a common misconception that when someone says uses the phrase “psychological safety” they are implicitly implying that there should be no conflict. I interpret psychological safety to mean essentially the exact opposite. For me, psychological safety represents situations in which healthy conflict can occur. Ones in which people felt free to express their opinions, ask questions, challenge assumptions, and otherwise contribute without fear of being negatively impacted by doing so. Negative impacts can range from being characterized as a troublemaker, being complained about to a supervisor, being passed over for promotions, being bullied, or even losing a job (to list just a few things).

Trust can also be interpreted in a variety of ways in this context. Trust that the other people in the room have common goals for one, but it also includes trust in the competence of people outside of your immediate sphere of influence. Trust that those you are working with are operating with the best of intentions and at the best of their abilities is another.

Neither of these concepts is new, which is one of the reasons why I find myself surprised that both things are still a factor in many modern professional settings. Perhaps surprised is not really the proper word. Creating trust in the workplace is hard. Creating cultures where team members feel genuine psychological safety is hard. These things require dedication, diligence, and a significant amount of time. Time that can also be spent trying to “get things done.”

Completing tasks is easy. Much easier than changing the way we work, and treat, each other in the workplace.

Some thoughts on “Comprehensive Documentation”

There is no value in documentation.

Why Would You Say Something So Controversial Yet So Brave? is a quote from The Eric Andre Show rendered in an image macro and used as a reaction image on Tumblr humorously in response to relatively banal statements.

I am sure that if you know me personally, or if you are at least tangentially aware of what I do and how I view the world, you are rolling your eyes right now and writing off my statement as being naive. My ask is that you go along with my thought process for a minute to understand what I am really saying.

One of the four values in the Agile Manifesto is “Working Software over Comprehensive Documentation.” Many people inherently interpret this as meaning that those of us who resonate with the manifesto believe that we should never document. This is patently untrue. In fact, if you look at the statement under the four values it explicitly says that “while there is value in the items on the right, we value the items on the left more.” Agile enthusiasts do not advocate for the abolition of documentation.

What we want is documentation that is valuable, and for documentation to be valuable it must be useful. The people it was written for must be able to find it. They must be able to understand it.  The documents must be relevant to the current environment.

Having a document repository that nobody uses is wasteful. Putting effort into populating such a repository is wasteful. Using physical and/or virtual space to store documentation that is never referenced is wasteful.

One of the reasons why I am so critical of “traditional” project management practices is because of the amount of documentation that is considered a requirement for projects to be completed, and the main reason I feel that way is because I see most of them being designed as cover for the Project Manager. Often, I see situations in which a Project Manager has all the responsibility for ensuring project success but none of the authority to make it happen, so they make sure that they document everything that they do to be able to say they have done their job when a project fails or is delayed. I cannot tell you the number of times I have seen this happen personally. I have, in fact, watched a Project Manager bring up said documentation and force people to look at it to prove exactly this.[i]

I do not claim to have the right answer for what is the proper amount of documentation in any given situation. Like most things in the Agile world, it really depends. As a developer, I was a huge fan of self-documenting code (using variables with long, descriptive names to describe what the code was supposed to do), so I did not spend a lot of time adding comments to my code. I also contend that if your organization does not have individuals dedicated to the creation and curation of knowledge most of your documentation efforts are going to end up being wasted (largely because doing so is a full-time job). If your end users search for a document on your intranet and cannot find it, it might as well not exist.

Even more controversial is the notion that your systems/processes/products should be designed in a way that does not require documentation in the first place. Documenting complexity does not generate value for your users but eliminating that complexity does.

Creating documentation is a process, and like any process you should constantly evaluate it to determine whether it is generating value. If it is? Think of ways to make it more valuable! Maybe teach others how to do what you are doing or find ways to make your documentation more accessible to your end users.[ii] But if, as if often the case, your documents are essentially locked in a disused lavatory behind a sign that says “Beware the Leopard” your time could be better invested.


[i] In the specific example I am thinking of, the PM in question asserted that it was not their fault if the people in the meeting were unaware of a situation because the PM had followed the communication plan. My contention is that if you followed the communication plan and your message still did not get across the fault is in your communication plan, not the people.

[ii] If, for example, a user says they searched for your document on your company intranet and could not find it ask them to show you what they did and give that feedback to the people who manage the intranet.

[Frustration Hits YOU for 1000]

I put out to the universe that I wanted to do two things before I went into surgery to remove my Neuroendocrine Tumor. I wanted to be in Picasso at the Lapin Agile, and I wanted to go to Dragon Con with my son. The universe answered by giving me a double (or very extended) dose of COVID-19 that, combined with the fact that I had plans to go to Dragon Con that I was unwilling to cancel because of the fact that my son was going with me, resulted in the mutual decision to recast my role in the show. The icing on the cake is that my son was unable to join me (a fact I did not discover until I was already in Atlanta for the convention).

Needless to say the universe told me to go blow.

I had a fine time at the convention, and I do not regret going, but it cost me a lot. Maybe too much, but I’m trying to look at the bright side. I’m meeting with my surgeon at the Moffitt Cancer Center on September 26th, and when I do I won’t have to put off starting my treatments until after the show closes. Small comfort, but I’m taking what I can.

But speaking of bitter pills…figures that we’ve been able to avoid catching COVID for over two and a half years and caught it just in time for it to screw up my plans to do a show I really wanted to do. More than a bit mad about that one, too.

Anyway, not much else to report on the health front. While I’m over the coronavirus, it combined with my cancer to be a major drain on my energy. I’m only just now, weeks later, starting to feel like I’m back to some semblance of normal. I’ve been paying very close attention to the signs my body is giving me, resting when I need to, eating when I need to, and just being gentle with myself as not to do anything that could further hinder my ability to get the tumor removed.

Fun bonus content! I have a polyp in my colon that has high levels of dysplasia. What this means, in a very abbreviated way, is that it is pre-cancerous but needs to be removed. It is, as my doctor so delicately put it, “big and ugly.” So I’ve got more surgery to look forward to. I’m hoping it can be done while I’m in the hospital to have the NET removed.

Oh, just as an FYI to those who were members – I decided to take down the Caring Bridge site. I’ll still be posting information here, and when I go into surgery Lisa will be keeping my immediate family up-to-date on my status. With everything we have going on dealing with this it was just one more thing to keep track of and I needed to prioritize what was best for my mental well being in that regard. I’m pretty vicious about cutting out stressors in my life at the moment, and that was one I did not need.

I’ve had bad days. It’s just one of those.

If this year had gone the way it was supposed to, I’d still be basking in the afterglow of a two-week vacation in Hawaii with my family right now. I’d be getting ready to head over to Tampa for a rehearsal of Picasso at the Lapin Agile. I’d be getting amped up about the fact that in less than two weeks I was taking my son to Dragon Con with me for the first time.

Edit: TripIt just did me the “kindness” of reminding me that we’d still be IN Hawaii right now. Sigh.

I could go on. The point is that, for me, 2022 has felt like a long line of “oh, you thought this cool thing was going to happen? NAH.” and it feels like it’s not going to get better any time soon. I mean, for the first time in almost ten years I actually expressed a desire to make a big deal out of my birthday in November (the last time I really did so was for my 40th…I’m ok with indulging myself on milestone birthdays) and now I’m like “well, will I be doing anything other than laying around and recovering from surgery and/or dealing with the side effects of the potential radiation therapy I’ll likely need after?”

I’m just not in the best place about all “this” today. The double whammy of cancer and COVID is just a bit more than my brain was ready to accept and feeling trapped in the house and unable to take care of myself isn’t helping.

Oh, hey…so speaking of…guess what is even more pronounced when you mix cancer with COVID? Fatigue! Yay! At least, that’s been the case for me. Mind you, fatigue and energy level issues are what started me down the path that led to my diagnosis in the first place.

I can do this all day

So on Tuesday night I got to spend about 20 minutes in the Shimberg with a few old friends and some folks I was excited to start working with. I know it was only about 20 minutes because I tested positive for COVID-19 and had to go home.

Friends, I’m about at my wits end.

The symptoms came on pretty fast. They had already started when I tested positive, but I hadn’t thought twice about the fact that I had a sore throat because the day before I had an Endoscopy. My assumption is that my immune system was compromised due to the number of invasive tests I’ve had lately, including the colonoscopy I had last week that probably wiped all the good gut biomes out of my system.

The symptoms have been mild-ish I suppose, but they have knocked me on my ass. The most persistent symptom I’ve had has been an incredibly sore throat, which seemed to peak overnight last night. I barely slept at all because the pain kept waking me up. No respiratory issues of note, and the sinus stuff seems to have passed. Dry cough, made more painful by the sore throat. Sitting up for extended periods makes me tired and I’ve got brain fog. Doctors have me on Paxlovid because of the cancer and my diabetes.

So yeah, this has pretty much sucked. Lisa has been taking amazing care of me and has, thankfully, remained asymptomatic with negative daily test results. We’ve split the house in two and when she comes back here to bring me things she has a KN95 on with a cloth mask to boot.

And y’all thought I was in my feels about this cancer situation before? This here pity party is an all night rave with no seats and $20 bottles of water. Honestly, what really upsets me the most about all this is that it pushed back my appointment at Moffitt and I really wanted to get that out of the way so I could figure out how my treatment is going to impact our lives in the next few months.

Now here’s a positive thing about all this – Many of you who have known me for a while have probably heard me talk about my first programming mentor, Wendell, and how one of the most valuable lessons he taught me was not to put my job before my health (he taught me this lesson by example…he worked himself to death). I was in the middle of writing a text message to Lisa about how I was going to “power through” the work I had to do on Wednesday before taking the rest of the day off. I realized I was heading down the path Wendell did and stopped that line of thought cold. I’m not dying because of my job, especially since EVERY co-worker I have has done nothing but emphasize how I need to focus on getting better.

You know, it’s kinda funny to me how the same thing keeps popping up in my head and has for the last few years. I’ve said for a long time that while Spider-Man is the super hero I find most relatable, Captain America is the one that inspires me. It’s kinda his thing, really. That scene in Avengers: Endgame comes to mind often and has a lot over the last three years. Oh come on, you know the scene I’m talking about if you’ve seen it. Cap has had his ass handed to him, his shield is broken, his friends are incapacitated, and he has a whole army coming his way. But he grimaces through the pain, tightens his broken shield on to his arm, and stands up to face what is coming. He doesn’t say it, but it’s the ongoing thread of “I can do this all day” that he has throughout his entire story arc. That’s where I’m at right now.

And when I’m done with my surgery and on the other side of this I’m getting myself a shield for my office.

Last dance.

The last few days have been rough on me. Lisa and I were talking about my tumor on Friday and trying to picture how big it was. We knew it was 14cm by 11cm by 2cm, but we use the imperial system of measurement and, for me at least, centimeters sound tiny. They are not as tiny as I thought. Roughly speaking, Phil (I have named it Phil because I felt like it) is roughly 7 inches by 5.5 inches by 2 inches.

That is a lot bigger than I had imagined. Although it explains why my oncologist was surprised it did not hurt when he pressed down on my abdomen.

The size of the tumor changes nothing about my diagnosis or my prognosis. I get that, intellectually. But it is a big leap to go from “hey there is this tiny thing on my pancreas that needs to be snipped out” to “this thing is taking up serious real estate in your guts.”

So yeah, I have been depressed. I am also being very maudlin, and I cannot help myself from continually wondering if this will be my last [insert thing here]. Will Picasso be my last show? Will Dragon Con be my last vacation? Will this be the last time I close my eyes and fall asleep? Will this be the last evening I spend with my wife? My family? My friends? Will this be my last cheeseburger, and if so why the hell did I purchase it at McDonald’s?? Will this be the last time I have to shave my ears?

Ok, that one would not be so bad.

I am also struggling mightily with having empathy for the struggles others are going through. This is not necessarily a new feeling. For the last three years I have had to resist the urge to respond to every complaint I heard with “ok, sure…but have you lost a son?” Now I get to add “do you have Steve Jobs killing cancer?” to that annoying voice in my head. I want to be selfish and in my feels and am really struggling to give a damn that someone may have gotten the wrong latte at their daily Starbucks stop. It is unfair and self-centered, especially considering that having empathy for people and their own personal struggles is kind of a big deal to me, but I have my moments regardless.

I think I am coming through the other side of it, but I am still feeling very emotionally heavy right now. I am hoping that I will feel better after my appointment at Moffitt next week, and in the interim I am very much looking forward to being back in the Shimberg tonight for the first time since before the pandemic started. I have missed it terribly, and I could use a little theater magic right about now.

Over saturation

I’m very conscious of the fact that talking about this cancer situation constantly could be wearying or come across as some sort of effort to garner attention or sympathy. One of the things I have realized and accepted about myself in the last few years, though, is that sometimes talking about or sharing things that are going on in my life helps me process them. If I’m given the space to say “hey, this thing is challenging for me” and have that heard and acknowledged it makes it easier for me to figure out how to react.

It’s also just nice to be listened to sometimes.

But I don’t want to get annoying, so this is going to be the last update that I post about this situation that I consciously go out of my way to post to different social media feeds. WordPress allows me to automatically post my updates to my Twitter feed, and I intend to keep cross posting there. Or you can just bookmark my actual blog home page (does anyone even do that any more?).

Lisa has set up a private website where she will not only be aggregating my blog updates but posting more specific information about my treatment and recovery. If you would like information on how to access that site please reach out to one of us directly for information. We’re keeping access to that one pretty well controlled and will not be sharing the link publicly.

A few of you have asked how you can help. As of right now, we have everything we need and we already have a pretty hefty circle of friends and family who have volunteered to help us out with stuff around here if need be. We have excellent insurance and plenty of resources available to cover medical bills, so there isn’t a need to set up any kind of fund raising. If any of these things change we’ll absolutely let everyone know, but for right now we’re good. Promise. My priority in all of this is beating it, and I’m not going to let pride get in the way of doing that.

Once I have a treatment plan in hand we’ll sit down and figure out what the next few months look like for us, but for now this is what we know. Thanks again for all the support and positive thoughts.

Little “c”

We met with my oncologist this afternoon. He reinforced that if I had to get cancer in my pancreas this is, indeed, the best possible scenario. His exact way of wording it is that I have little “c” cancer instead of big “C” cancer.

Here are the specifics as I recall them (I am writing this on my phone while sitting in my car and killing time before a performance of Vulva Va-Voom: Hollywood Psychic. A show I am in as part of the Tampa Fringe Festival. Come see it).

I have what is known as a Pancreatic Neuroendocrine Tumor. It as an extremely rare form of pancreatic cancer, so yay me for finally being something other than average for a change. The important thing here is that it is not Adenocarcinoma, which accounts for 90% of all pancreatic cancers and is the big “C” one my doctor was referring to. The tumor I have is fairly large for a tumor and has likely been developing for years. It is possible that it was actually the cause of my Type II Diabetes and may have contributed to several other conditions I have been treated for over the last decade or so. What I have been diagnosed with is, by all accounts, very treatable and survivable.

The treatment is not going to be “easy” on me and I will be recovering for a while, but it is invasive surgery and that is pretty much par for the course for that kind of thing.

And yes, for those of you who are wondering, this is the exact same diagnosis Steve Jobs initially had, but I have one thing going for me he did not…I actually intend to let my doctors do something about it.

I have more tests to undergo to make absolutely sure this has not spread to or damaged other organs, and I am meeting with a surgeon at the Moffett Cancer Center as soon as I can get in to see one.

I am, I think understandably, unsettled by all of this and occasionally go deep into my feels and get all “why me?” I am not looking forward to the things that are now looming in my immediate future, but I am feeling very good about my chances of seeing the other side of it. I mean, Marvel just announced Secret Wars at the end of Phase 6 and I have to see how the Multiverse Saga plays out, so there really is not much choice in the matter.

Well. OK then.

I will get directly to the point if this post. Here is the cut and paste summary of what I have sent a few folks directly…

I have a cancerous tumor in my pancreas. It is, by all indications, highly treatable and was caught very early. In some cases the actual treatment for this kind is to do nothing and see what happens. I already have a relationship with an oncologist I really like and will be following up with him.

At this point I really do not have much additional data. I meet with my oncologist on Friday to figure out what kind of treatment, if any, I will need to undergo.

I am, as I am sure you can understand, a little tweaked out by the news, but I am very optimistic. I have excellent insurance, and a fantastic support network. I also have a partner who has been, and will be, by my side to help me get through this. I would have preferred to not deal with this, but I am grateful for all the positive things that are in place around it.

More as I learn it and as I have the mental fortitude to share, but I figured it made sense to share what I know for now.

As President Bartlett likes to say…”What’s next?”

A very brief health update…

My first biopsy was negative (thyroid).

Next biopsy is Monday (liver/pancreas).

I am still asymptomatic for anything related to cancers in that area, but they saw a cyst big enough to warrant further investigation.

I feel like the iron supplements are starting to work and my energy levels are beginning to rise again. Still confident the ultimate issue is just going to be that I give blood too often, but will not be 100% sure if that until September after my Upper and Lower GI tests and my next set of labs.

Mentally I am drained but still feeling positive about the whole thing. Lisa combines her medical experience and research skills to be able to provide contextual answers for me when I rabbit hole too deep into bad “what if” scenarios. She also has a whole laundry list of questions she wants me to pose to our primary care doctor when this is all said and done about our lifestyle choices and what we might have done differently to prevent some of this. I strongly suspect my coffee intake is going to be an issue but for now I am refusing to acknowledge that possibility. I will cross that bridge when I officially cross into my 50’s this November. Damnit. In any case, she has been by my side through all of this and her support, as always, is a major contributor to my mental health.

This was not as brief as I intended it to be, but there it is.