(Cry)Baby Steps

I am a drug rep in my day job.  (My night & weekend gig is storybook reader/back scratcher/toy train track builder/wagon puller/snack fixer).  I spend my day traveling from one doctor’s office to another in hopes of getting a few minutes in each office to talk about my drugs.  That’s in a perfect world.  Reality is: I spend A LOT of time sitting in waiting rooms.  I don’t know if this happens to other reps or if I’ve just got a face that welcomes the crazy in people, but I have countless stories of odd things that have happened to me in waiting rooms:

·         There was the woman who told me she’s had an “issue” since Katrina. When I asked what she meant by “issue” she got real close to me (read: my personal space), starting taking very deep breaths and asked if I could hear it.  I guess the disturbed look on my face told her that, no, I didn’t hear it.  So, she then started coughing very loudly and asked if I could hear it then.  She was convinced the government had caused it.  But she didn’t care.  If 7 feet of water didn’t do her in, then this “issue” wouldn’t either.  Huh.  I still wonder if it had anything to do with the pack of Marlboro Reds cigarettes she had sticking out of her purse.  Just a guess. (I use “quotes” around the word “issue” here because that’s what she did with her fingers – in the air - every time she said the word “issue” while we were talking).

·         Then there was the young man who, once he found out I have a pain medication, asked if I would like him to “test” out a sample to make sure it really worked.  I almost fell out of my seat laughing at this one.  He did not know what was so funny!?!

·         And, there was today’s scenario:

10/18/11 - This morning I sat down in a waiting room right next to an elderly gentleman who was holding a Reader’s Digest in his hands.  I hadn’t even gotten my laptop out of my bag before he started talking to me. He leaned over & pointed to the front cover of the magazine.  There in large, bold letters was the title, “50 Things Nurses Won’t Tell You.”

He started the conversation with, “They say you’re supposed to get in the bed and lay next to someone who’s dying.  They say that person can feel your affection, even though they’re dying.”  He paused.  When I looked up I immediately noticed a tear rolling down his cheek.  I was stunned and sat in silence.  I didn’t know what in the world to say or do.  (It’s in moments like this that I’m convinced I’m on Candid Camera).  The words he spoke next tore my heart out.  “I wish I knew that before now.  I only held her hand.”  He, again, got quiet.  I knew I had to say something now. 

“Was she your wife?”

“Yep, of 35 years.  I laid up next to her in the bed on Sunday night.  But she died on Tuesday.  And I was just holding her hand then.  Now I wish I never even read that article. Hindsight, huh?”  And he threw the Reader’s Digest across the table on to a stack of other magazines.

“Yes, sir.  We always look back and wish we could change what we did or didn’t do.  You can’t beat yourself up about that.  I bet she knew you were right there with her.  Did she just pass?” 

“Yep.  Almost 2 years now.” <Here’s where I started crying.>

“And let me tell you something.  Don’t ever leave the house mad.  Tell ‘em you love ‘em when you’re leaving and as soon as you get home.  You never know when they might be gone and you can’t say it anymore.”  <Here’s where I started crying harder.>

“Was she sick?”

“Yeah.  She battled the cancer for about 2 years” And as he said those words he touched his chest.  He never said the words breast cancer, but I assumed that’s exactly the evil that took his precious wife of 35 years from him.

“I’ve never had anything like this happen to me in my life before,” he said.  “I mean, I lost my mom & dad and I miss them, but I didn’t have them with me, every day, for 35 years.  Everything I did, she was right there with me.  Now, I’m lost as a goose. (His exact choice of words).  People nowadays don’t know what love is.  My daughter’s boyfriend just told me he loved her. And I asked him, how do you know you love her?  You just met her 6 weeks ago.  You don’t know if you love someone in 6 weeks.”

“Well, I bet you feel lucky to have known love in your life.”

“Oh, yes ma’am, I do.”

“Does your daughter live close by?  Do you get to see her often?”

“Yeah, she’s staying with me right now.”

“Do y’all live close?”

“Yeah, I live up the road in a camper.  I’ve still got my house in Biloxi, but I just can’t go back there.  Everything there is her. It’s all her. And I got nothin. I got nothin anymore.” And more tears fell down his cheeks.

“Well, I bet you’re glad your daughter is around to keep you company.”

“Nah, I think I’d rather be alone. I think I’m going to take me a trip soon.  I got some friends in south Texas.  I think I’m going to take me a trip and just ride off in to the sunset.”

He kinda chuckled when he said that, but there were tears still streaming down his cheeks.  He never spoke again. 

That’s when I got called to the back to check samples & see the Nurse Practitioner. I stood up and asked if I could give him a hug.  He smiled, stood up & hugged me tightly. 

I went about my business for the rest of the day, but couldn’t get that sweet little lonesome man out of my mind.  I’m pretty sure he & I ended up in that office in Vancleave, MS, at the same time this morning for a reason.  I needed to hear what he had to say.

Today’s my birthday.  Today I celebrate 38 years on this planet.  And I’m still learning lessons every single day.  When I was younger those lessons came from my Mom & Dad and textbooks & teachers.  Now that I’m older, the lessons come more inconspicuously.  Nowadays, for me at least, they’re often disguised as small children or elderly folks.  I admit that I am usually running through my day hurrying & trying to get as many things knocked off my “To Do” list as possible.  I’d probably be embarrassed at how many life lessons have presented themselves to me and I just missed them.  Because I had to make another sales call.  Or run one more errand.  Or start another load of laundry.  <Fill in the blank with whatever it is you always rush to do>

You know what gets me, though?  Books by Nicholas Sparks top the best seller list month after month, Lifetime has no shortage of tear-jerker movies about someone who’s been kidnapped, gotten amnesia, fallen off a cliff, lost their identity and then fell in love with the detective who rescued them.  Oprah Winfrey could probably be President of the U.S. if she wanted – based solely on the fact that she’s the queen of “feel good” TV (not to mention, she could easily get our country out of debt with a single check from her account).  And, we have all, at some point in our life, lost someone dear to us.  We are constantly surrounded by reminders of how precious life is, yet we/I still walk out of my house & get in to my car just assuming I will return.  We/I get bothered or frustrated with a family member (what?  NEVER?!) and don’t necessarily end the conversation or phone call with an “I love you” – cause I’ll do that the next time, when I’m not nearly as irritated with them.  We/I get up in the morning, rush like mad to get breakfast fixed, teeth brushed, clothes on & shoes (that match) tied, only to dash out of the house to ensure that everyone gets to school & work on time.  What in the world is “on time” if fitting in a tight hug & a look, in my son’s eyes, that says to them – “You are my world.  I will love you forever. Go have an amazing day!”  I will be the first to admit that I can & need to do better. 

So, here’s my commitment.  I’m starting with baby steps.  Baby steps to being more grateful & appreciative.  Baby steps to being more attentive to the life lessons being presented, possibly inconspicuously, to me every single day.  Baby steps to saying “I love you” every time I walk in or out of the door at my house.  Cause I don’t want to say one day, to a stranger sitting next to me in a doctor’s office, “Hindsight, huh?”

Want to take some baby steps of your own?  Think about it.  And, know that I’ll be thinking of you when I begin my journey in Atlanta on Friday morning. 

xoxo,

Kim 

An Afternoon in the Park

There once was a little boy who wanted to meet God.  He knew it was a long trip to where God lived, so he packed his suitcase with Twinkies and a six-pack of root beer and he started on his journey.

When he had gone about three blocks, he met an old woman.  She was sitting in the park just staring at some pigeons.  The boy sat down next to her and opened his suitcase.  He was about to take a drink from his root beer when he noticed that the old lady looked hungry, so he offered her a Twinkie.  She gratefully accepted it and smiled at him.  Her smile was so pretty that the boy wanted to see it again, so he offered her a root beer.  Once again she smiled at him.  The boy was delighted!

They sat there all afternoon eating and smiling, but they never said a word.

As it began to grow dark, the boy realized how tired he was and he got up to leave.  He turned around, ran back to the old woman and gave her a hug.  She gave him her biggest smile ever.

When the boy opened the door to his own house a short time later, his mother was surprised by the look of joy on his face.

She asked him, “What did you do today that made you so happy?”

He replied, “I had lunch with God.  You know what?  She’s got the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen.”

Meanwhile, the old woman, also radiant with joy, returned to her home.

Her son was stunned by the look of peace on her face and asked, “Mother, what did you do today that made you so happy?”

She replied, “I ate Twinkies in the park with God.  You know, he’s much younger than I expected.”