I'm off to London!

As the title to this blog reflects, I have fallen prey to my desire to travel again, so I'm off to visit my sister in London. Although I've transited through Heathrow and Gatwick multiple times, the last time I spent more than a night in the land of the Queen Mother was in the 1980's, when my dad was briefly posted there for work.

The goals for this trip are to introduce myself to my brand new nephew (almost 9 months old now), and to see what all the fuss about this "Europe Rising" thing is. Stay tuned!

True heros

Imagine my surprise the other day when I got an email from my friend Rangina Hamidi. Any time I hear from Rangina is a pleasure, and to be honest, a relief. You see, Rangina is in Kandahar, Afghanistan, and I get to hear from her so infrequently that inevitably I start wondering if she is doing ok. Until I get another email from her, and I get to rest easy for a little longer.

Rangina is an Afghan American who I became good friends with while we were both undergrads at the University of Virginia. After graduating we went our different ways - I started my career in consulting, and Rangina decided to go work for a nonprofit. Until 9-11 and its aftermath.

Fiercely independent and an ardent believer in women's rights, Rangina wasted little time leaving all the comforts of the US for the hardship of Afghanistan the moment the Taliban regime fell. I don't think she had any idea what she was going to do once she got there, but she knew she wanted to help somehow. Today she is being honored live on CNN for the work she is doing in her home country (www.cnn.com/heroes).

Watching CNN describe Rangina's work makes me think long and hard about the opportunities for impact that each of us are provided with, and how many of us actually seize those opportunities. Rangina is working with the women of Kandahar, helping them market their beautiful embroidery across the world (you can find out more at www.kandahartreasure.com), while I am handing out notepads and pens to receptionists. Ok, I know, I exaggerate. I'm doing more than that, and I'm proud of my work. But my point is this - not so long ago Rangina was faced with a difficult decision. She could remain in the US in relative comfort and try to help Afghanistan remotely, or she could pack up her belongings and head to a dangerous environment to use her upbringing and education to help the women of her country. Rangina chose the latter.

What would I have done, if faced with the same situation? What would you have done?

The reality of the field

So it's coming up on three weeks since I've been out of training and have been placed in the real world of field sales. I've learned a few things that our trainers conveniently forgot to mention, or simply did not emphasize:

• Doctors have better things to do with their time than to listen to a sales rep deliver a marketing message.
• You occupy the rung below single-cell amoeba on the food chain as far as the people you interact with are concerned.
• Doctors think they know everything, but they don't. In turn, their patients risk receiving suboptimal treatment because of the doctor's refusal to listen to facts that run contrary to their beliefs.
• With all this pressure, saying what you want to say in a precise, effective manner is an art form.
• If you can't develop a thick skin, don't show up to work.

What a wake up call this has been. Before I started this job, I thought of sales reps the same way most other people think of them - nuisances that make your product purchasing decision unpleasant. This image shattered once I got to training, where I developed immense respect for the sheer volume of knowledge a pharma rep needs to learn in order to do their job effectively. Being in the field has been another wake-up call. I can't imagine how some of these reps do their job day after day for years on end. I don't understand how they dig deep within themselves to find the motivation to go on after facing yet another close-minded physician. I don't understand how they spend hours on end working by themselves, with almost no support or interaction with their coworkers.

So far I've been happy if I can get my name across to a doctor before he starts walking away. My favorite story from these last three weeks happened in week 1. I was visiting an office for the first time, and walked up to the receptionist to introduce myself, mention the products that I carried, and ask if the doctor was available. The nurse looked me up and down and asked what else I had with me. Confused, I repeated the products I was responsible for. No good. "What ELSE do you carry?" she asked. At this point I admitted defeat. "Umm, what would you like me to carry?" I asked.

Which is when the receptionist told me that unless I had some premium items (i.e., pens, pads, etc.) for the staff, that I wasn't getting back to see the doctor anytime soon. Of course, yours truly had no premium items at the time, so I started to leave, crestfallen and teary-eyed. I had almost reached the office door, when I heard the receptionist call out behind me, "Sugar, I'm just messing with you. The doctor is on vacation!" The entire office staff laughed heartily.

*sigh* Abused AND ridiculed. I need a hug.

For me, this experience is a dose of bad-tasking, albeit necessary, medicine. I thought I had strong communication skills coming out of business school, but I've quickly learned that I don't stand a chance against a polished sales rep. In school we were taught to develop 5 minute elevator pitches - speeches to have on hand to deliver to your company's CEO should you run into them on the elevator up to work. 5 minutes? Are you kidding me? Seasoned sales reps that I've seen in action can deliver impactful messages that will stop a doctor in their tracks in 20 seconds. If this is the only skill that I pick up from this rotation, then I'll be a happy camper.

Hawaiian shirt day

Bill Lumbergh: "Oh, and remember: next Friday... is Hawaiian shirt day. So, you know, if you want to, go ahead and wear a Hawaiian shirt and jeans." [Office Space]

Training is almost done with. It’s been a really, really long slog. Really long. In fact, I was discussing this with one of the other MBAs going through this experience with me, and we realized that we’d been studying medicine non-stop for the last 60 days. I’m practically ready to open my own practice.

This last week of training has been different, since it has involved attending a real live Regional Sales Meeting. These are events held every few months where the sales force of a large geographic region – Chicago in this case – comes together to hear about the latest updates from management, discuss performance-to-date, and study the latest articles/research that has been published regarding their drugs. But it all starts with Hawaiian Shirt Day.

That the people in Sales are different is by now old news to me. But the way this difference manifests itself in all aspects of a salesperson’s life continues to surprise me. I’ve attended regional meetings before when I was a consultant, and they are usually serious events with some revelry on the side. Sales meetings are revelry with some serious events on the side.

We started with Hawaiian shirts, which we were all asked to wear for the first day of the three-day meeting. This was to get us in the right spirit of accomplishment, since the most successful salespeople (the “All Stars,” as they are called) get to win an all-expense paid weeklong vacation to Hawaii at the end of the year. These All Stars represent the top 10% of the sales force, and attaining this ranking ensures that great stardom will accompany you everywhere you go. The difference in making an All Star versus winning a consolation cash prize for second place is measured in the tenths of a percentage point, which means that things get pretty competitive. It’s an interesting concept, and not one you see repeated too frequently in industry. Sure, there are performance appraisals that lead to higher bonuses, and some sort of chairman’s awards that lead to a desk display piece, but the prizes are generally not the kind that great memories can be made of.

This particular regional meeting opened with goody bags, Beach Boys music, and hula hoop concerts. I didn’t know anyone there other than my fellow trainees and the sales team that I had done some field travel with, but it seemed every other person was best friends with everyone else. There was a lot of hugging, high-fiving, and merriment for the first hour. Although the day eventually progressed to more serious discussions of the state of the business, things quickly got back on track towards the end with music and limbo contests. Yours truly decided to get into the spirit of things, but rapidly realized that a) I’m too tall to limbo, and b) I have zero hip flexibility. How cool would it be if other industries lightened up like this? Can you imagine a regional meeting of strategy consultants partying it up, with the managing partner teaching a group of junior consultants the finer points of hula-hooping? The world would be such a better place.

Although part of my brain is completely fried from all the training that I’ve been attending, the wiser part of me realizes that life is going to be different once out in the field for real (next week), and that I’ll be praying for the next sales event just so that I can wear a Hawaiian shirt again.

Throwdown on Church Street

Saeeda and I have been diligently hunting for houses in the Chicago suburbs, while I've been in Sales training, . Although my Sales rotation will keep me downtown, it is only a matter of time before I am transferred back to HQ, which will then require a horrendous 2 hour commute (one way) from downtown Chicago. So we've been mostly concentrating on looking at places in the northern suburb of Evanston, from where both of our commutes are going to be manageable.

We taken our time, probably more so because of the great buyer's market that we're in right now. Home sellers are receptive to cutting prices, houses are staying on the market for months, and buyer are generally not competing for the same property. I say generally, because this past weekend it became clear to us how quickly things can change.

On Sunday Saeeda and I returned to a new housing development that we had first visited in July, just when we were starting our housing hunt. Located conveniently close to public transportation, this development on Church St. pushes up against the lower-income part of Evanston, and so our concern for this entire time has been whether this is going to be a good investment. This Sunday we wanted to revisit to see how much more construction had taken place, and what units were still available for sale.

The sales office was a zoo. There were prospective buyers everywhere, and the agent working that day was clearly overwhelmed. Luckily, we were one of the first people there, so we were able to corner the agent and ask most of our questions before he got pulled away by another lady. It quickly became clear to us that interest in this development had picked up significantly in the time that we had been exploring our options elsewhere in Chicago, so we decided to put down a reservation on one of the units. The reservation was a refundable amount of money that would simply enable us to spend 10 days to decide whether we wanted to put in a contract. So we pulled the selling agent away as soon as we got the option and told him of our decision. The agent gladly got us the forms, which we filled out and returned to him. At which point he turned a little pale.

Apparently the other lady that he had been attending to had decided to put down a reservation for the same unit. It was amazing how quickly our entire mindset changed. Faced with the prospect of losing a desirable property, we completely abandoned the laissez-faire attitude we'd had for the last three months. Panic set in. The agonizingly long debates that we'd had each night debating the pros and cons of the 30 or so properties we'd seen so far instantly became irrelevant. The list of top properties we had been considering for the last few weeks quickly whittled down to one - Church Street. We had to have this place.

Which is when our real estate agent stepped up her game and earned her keep many times over. Nancy had come recommended to us by a friend of mine, and had been the perfect complement to our easygoing attitude during our entire real estate hunt. Not pushy, always supportive, and a pleasure to be around, Nancy was more a nice older relative than real estate agent. But the moment she realized that there was going to be a rumble, and that some tough negotiating was called for, she transformed before our eyes.

With quiet, commanding authority, Nancy calmly told us to leave the sales center, as things could get ugly. She told us to immediately head home to retrieve our checkbooks - the reservation amount was completely refundable and it would give us an edge against the lady now looking to reserve the same property that we wanted. As I left the sales office, I could clearly hear the other lady begin to complain loudly upon learning that someone else wanted the house that she did.

The drive home to pick up our checkbook was an enlightening one. I realized that this whole time Saeeda and I had been suffering from option paralysis. Just the fact that we could take our time and look at all the houses that we wanted meant that we were stuck trying to figure out exactly what we wanted. Facing a high-pressure situation had quickly whittled down our options and forced us to make a decision, one that we had been agonizing over for months.

It took us 40 min. to return to the sales center, where we were met by Nancy - there was no sign of our competition and the house was ours to reserve. I would find out later that Nancy had negotiated quickly and efficiently to find flaws in the other lady's candidacy, and to instead promote our own. Faced with the option of picking, the builder's agent had decided to go with us. The relief was immense, as was the gratitude I felt for Nancy's ability to negotiate hard. I know I've learned this stuff in class, but theory is one thing and the practical reality of a situation is another completely.

Now begin the 10 days of making sure this is the perfect place for us. I wonder if we're going to wait until day 9 to make that final call...

I begin to understand

Week three of sales training just ended, and all of us sales-reps-to-be head home for a week of regional field travel, where we'll get to visit actual physicians and practice the theory and techniques that we've been learning in class. I'm excited to finally use the Jedi mind tricks, and especially the cool Vulcan death grip, should a physician prove more stubborn than I expect.

Actually, there's been none of that in training at all. And therein lies the dilemma I am now facing. I'm starting to understand what this is all about. I'm starting to see how little I knew about the business of selling pharma, and how hard it really is. I'm starting to appreciate my fellow sales reps, and am beginning to be humbled in their presence - some of these people are tremendously hard workers, and care deeply about improving patient lives, even if it means facing up to an ignorant doctor. And that's the most surprising transformation of all for me. I'd never have used the word "ignorant" with the word "doctor" before, but a big part of the charisma and mythology surrounding physicians is turning to dust right before my eyes.

I'm starting to realize that there are a lot of doctors out there who stopped learning once they left med-school. That there are simply too many demands on a physician's time to keep up with all the research that can direct them to patients in the best manner possible. That even those doctors who got "C" grades in college and barely cleared their board exams truly believe that they know everything, but that I, a mere sales rep, am better informed about the cardiovascular disease state and the best cholesterol treatment algorithms.

I'm also beginning to see that somewhere along the way things went horribly wrong with the US healthcare system, and with the process of selling medicines. Sales techniques got out of hand, doctors began to abuse favors provided by the reps, and the reps began to bend over backward to provide the most unethical of benefits to physicians that were willing to prescribe their products. There is a reason we are hated and treated like dirt. But as with all systems that swing too far in one direction, there is a reversion to the mean. Abbott has a zero-tolerance policy and FDA oversight means that now there is no leeway for reps to do the things they used to be able to do (i.e., take doctors out on all expense paid cruises).

It'll take a while before our reputations are restored. And maybe one day this system of selling is going to have to be done away with completely. But for now this is how things are. And if I want to change any of it in the future, I must spend time in the ditches, learning the ropes.

This sales rotation is going to be more of an eye-opener than I ever thought that it would be.

Sales Training

Ok, yes, so I've been bad about blogging for a while, but it's because I've been wrapped up in the excitement of starting a new job, and making sure I work hard to impress everyone. I must say, though, that at times I feel like I'm back in business school, which is disturbing. Allow me to elaborate.

Given that I've entered Abbott Labs's rotational program for MBA grads, I get to choose where to spend my first year-long rotation. The natural place to start is Sales, where you get to see at the most basic level how a pharma company generates sales for its products. However, this means swallowing a humility pill, and becoming one of the unwashed - a sales rep.

Yes, go ahead, stare - I don't mind. Really. Ok, well, just a little bit. Alright, I want you to stop staring now. Seriously.

I will agree that pharma reps generally generate the same warm fuzzy feeling that do used car salesman. When I told my cousin Ahmer, who is a doctor, what I would be doing for the next year, she flat out refused to believe that I had spent $150,000 on my education to get to this point (she then told me how much she hated sales reps - don't worry Ahmer, we're coming after you). For that matter, my father still doesn't completely know what I do (although he suspects - shhh, don't tell him). My friends know simply that I am in a rotational program. Finally, I myself have had to suppress major doubts before jumping into this situation. But slowly I am beginning to understand.

Part of this enlightenment has come from the last two weeks, where I have been sequestered in a hotel near Chicago, undergoing Sales training and cramming my head full of medical knowledge. Because I will be working with cholesterol medication, I've had to learn the ins and outs of cardiovascular diseases, their causes, their diagnoses, their treatment algorithms, and the competitive landscape. For eight hours a day I join fellow MBA grads to sit in class, listen to lectures, and study. And take exams. Which I have to clear at a 90% or better. I'm allowed to fail a test once, but I have to retake the test the next morning and pass at 90% or better. Or I'm fired.

When was the last time you felt pressure like that? When was the last time YOU scored a 90% on anything? I know mine. I was in 5th grade and I got a 95% on my math test. Heck, even scoring high wouldn't be that big a deal if it wasn't for the fact that my livelihood depended on it. I'm competitive, and studied hard to get an "A" just as much as my fellow student throughout my school years. But at the end of the day I could always go home even if ended up with a "B" grade. Not here buddy. This place isn't for the weak of heart. The pressure, as they say, has been on for two weeks. And I will be the first to admit that I failed my first test, but I will just as quickly add that I recovered, and passed the makeup test with flying colors. I also feel better knowing that fellow students also tripped just as I did - the picture below was surreptitiously captured on my cell phone camera, and shows the review session that was held for all those individuals who failed the first exam. As you can see, I am hardly alone (I have blurred faces to protect privacy, for now - you know who you are and you better play nice.)

Still, suffering through the equivalent of a semester of med school every week would be ok if it weren't for the other individuals in the class with me (in addition to the ten or so MBAs) - the 160 or so sales reps. I am surrounded by happy, energetic people. Type A personalities. Energy levels are so high that were anyone to consume ANY caffeine I'm convinced they would explode. Everyone applauds everyone else all the time. No instructor question ever goes unanswered. I am never left to myself, because someone is always approaching to engage me in a conversation. By the end of the first two weeks I have found myself withdrawing and becoming "the quiet guy." It's crazy. The whole situation is like being in b-school again, but with super-high energy, happy, energetic people who would put the competitive b-school type to shame.

It has, in other words, been a rough start.