Cheryl goes to the bank
Tall, gangly and with her arms outstretched, Cheryl Irving slides down the hallway of her apartment, a big, dark bird in pink plaid pyjamas and red fuzzy, worn slippers. Her knees are slightly bent and a smile splits her face as she surfs the polished hardwood, bearing down on the long-suffering cat that is frantically looking for a place to hide. It's the first thing she does each morning, even before brushing her teeth or putting the kettle on to boil, a ritual that lets her feel, for those few brief moments, that she hasn't a care in the world. "Remember Tom Cruise in Risky Business?" she grins. "This is my Cruise move. It's not about pretending. It's just the way it is, right here and now, living in the moment." For those few seconds, it doesn't matter what is on her agenda, be it something as fun as lunch with a friend or an appointment with the doctor, which is not fun at all.
In the past few years, there have been lots of doctors. In March 2006, while on medical leave for an ear infection and exhaustion, Irving found an indentation in her left breast and a lump under her left arm that turned out to be cancer. As she lay on the ultrasound table, it never occurred to her she might not beat it, that it would prove inexorable, spreading to her liver, her bones, her lungs and her lymph nodes. Or that more than three years later, she would be preparing to start yet another round of chemotherapy, girding herself for the nausea, lack of energy and hair loss. Back then, all she wanted was to return to her job at the Canadian Imperial Bank of Commerce (CIBC). Yet she had already learned there was probably nothing to go back to: Even before she was diagnosed with cancer, she was restructured without warning from her position as vice-president of marketing and client services for CIBC Asset Management. Then, in the spring of 2007, according to Irving, the insurance company phoned to tell her that her job wasn't there anymore.
Downsized while fighting cancer
Sure, she saw the irony in being downsized by a corporation so closely tied to the Run for the Cure, on behalf of breast cancer research. Who wouldn't? But she was more preoccupied with a future with no job. Although she will remain a CIBC employee while she is on leave and collecting insurance benefits, obstensibly there will be nothing for later, not even work as a part-time consultant. (CIBC policy is to offer employment counselling and a severance package if an employee cannot be placed elsewhere in the company.) As a last resort, she paid her own way to Vancouver this past February to speak at the CIBC shareholders' conference. "All I ever wanted was to be viewed in an objective fashion. I wanted fair treatment, compassion and the chance to go back to work, head held high."
CIBC should "walk the talk," she continues, turning the corporation's commitment to the cancer run into a gentle rebuke and reminder of what it professes to stand for. That there are others in her position elsewhere in Canada has only spurred her to fight harder—a Dona Quixote fixated on what she sees as justice and fair play.
