My workplace has a great I.T. department. Last week, one of their managers sought a meeting—to work with us even more efficiently. (I love that!)
This was the first I’d heard of the phrase, “Mission Critical.” As he spoke, I realized these tech whizzes are constantly performing triage. “Mission critical refers to any factor of a system… whose failure will result in the failure of business operations. That is, it is critical to the organization’s ‘mission.’” (Wikipedia)
It’s a good thing I can multi-task, because as we discussed data requirements, I reminisced of “M*A*S*H”—Hawkeye Pierce and Margaret Houlihan: “This one can wait; take this one STAT: he’s got internal bleeding.”
Yup: the entire operation of a multi-million-dollar enterprise in the hands of one computer-savvy Poindexter.
Haven’t we all had to do our share of triage? Haven’t you experienced a mission critical moment? It’s a tough decision to rescue somebody, even if it meant (temporarily) setting somebody else aside? It’s not easy; that’s why part of job training for computer dudes is in diplomacy.
As I plow hard into my second half-century, I dare say I’ve had my share of this. I’m a MOTHER! ‘Ever had to set an infant on the floor to grab a toddler from the 3rd shelf? ‘Nuff said. And frankly, after homeschooling for 12 years, then being caregiver to a dementia patient, and after that becoming ostracized by loved ones, and returning to the workplace after 22 years, Triage is my middle name.
The Lord has brought me a long way. When I was younger, important decisions would send me into panic mode. These days, Hey, I can crash a car without shedding a tear; that’s a far cry from standing still—frozen—pointing: “Well, look at that: the curtains are on fire!” (Yes. I did that.)
So take it from me: LIFE is mission critical. Just deal.