Volume 40 Number 1 | February 2026
Summary
Written in the witty voice of Lady Whistledown, this letter champions the often-invisible clinical laboratory. It calls on leaders to recognize, respect, and care for laboratory professionals, warning that neglect, unrealistic demands, and lack of acknowledgment imperil well‑being, talent retention, and ultimately, patient care.
Dispatches from the Unseen Wing in the stylings of Bridgerton’s Lady Whistledown
Julie Freidhoff, MS, MLS(ASCP), ASCLS Today Volunteer Contributor
Dearest Gentle Reader,
It has come to this observant author’s attention that, despite the fanfare of boardrooms and grand strategy sessions, there exists a quieter, yet infinitely more consequential, corner of our establishment. Here, transport tubes tumble, analyzers whirr, and professionals confer to one another in a language so precise that even the most diligent of administrators might require a decoder ring. Yes, dear reader, I speak of the laboratory—that hidden kingdom upon which the very fortunes of patient care rely.
Let us dispense with false modesty: the work performed here is extraordinary. We process the samples, validate the results, troubleshoot the anomalies, and hold ourselves accountable for decisions that affect lives we will never meet. We do so with poise, dedication, and an almost unreasonable commitment to excellence. And yet—despite our indispensable contributions—we are, too often, invisible. It could be said, with the utmost propriety, that we are the invisible engines, whirring with quiet industry behind the splendid triumphs that capture the public eye.
Dearest reader of influence, I entreat you to consider, it is not vanity that we crave, but the quiet, sustaining connection of recognition and regard. The endless “mission-first” directives, the heroic exhortations to accomplish more with less, and the subtle implication that endurance alone is a virtue—these are not only unrealistic, but they are also most perilous. When one asks human beings to operate without pause or care, one does not summon excellence; one’s constitution is swiftly roused into a state of survival and hypervigilance. Efficiency may continue. Yet creativity, focus, and well-being quietly diminish. Moral injury, stress, and fatigue do not announce themselves with a dramatic roll of the drums, but their absence will be felt where it matters most: in patient care, error reduction, and the retention of talent.
Now, do not misunderstand this letter as complaint. Rather, think of it as a polite, well-penned nudge—much like this author’s namesake, Lady Whistledown, might employ when recounting the social missteps of Regency society. There is wit in observation, after all, and wisdom in perspective. Consider these suggestions: Perambulate the laboratory floors, confer with the humans who coax miracles from machinery, and inquire—truly inquire—about the challenges and triumphs that unfold unseen. Celebrate the victories that no one else witnesses. Cultivate an understanding of the boundaries whose preservation ensures both excellence and well-being. Yes, dearest Gentle Reader, hold close the guiding principle that all employees are irreplaceably human, innately valuable, and deserving of acknowledgment and care.
Leaders who wish to inspire excellence might do well to remember that dignity, respect, realistic expectations and recognition are far more effective than performative presence or the occasional ceremonial tour. To honor those who labour unseen, is not merely a kindness; it is a strategic imperative. After all, a mission completed on the backs of exhausted, unacknowledged, and unseen humans is unlikely to endure—and may very well cost far more than it saves.
So, dearest Gentle Reader of influence and decision, know this: the laboratory watches, always with admiration, occasionally with quiet exasperation, and consistently with hope. Hope that recognition will be genuine, communication two-way, and care mutual. In the words of a certain lady chronicler, the truth, once observed, cannot easily be ignored—and neither, one hopes, can those who make it possible.
With keen observation and continued admiration,
Lady Whistle DNAwn
(pronounced Whistledown)
Julie Freidhoff is a Coach and Consultant at SafeSpace Coaching and Consulting in Rochester, Minnesota.
Images created by Julie Freidhoff, MS, MLS(ASCP), using Canva.