Patience as Patients
12/19/2003 09:38 p.m.
When I arrived for my GP doctor appointment today (I need one for every one of my frequent colds, as I don’t have a spleen anymore, since my cancer) an older woman with her daughter-in-law and using a walker, arrived at the same time. She was tiny and quiet, and neat, and they waited (her daughter-in-law seeming more tired than her) for an hour like I did, past our scheduled time.


She had to ignore the magazines, as she couldn’t read any more. She kept answering, no she wasn’t cold or anything, and just patiently sat there in the small office, not too comfy chairs. When they learned of another appointment on their own upcoming agenda (and after seeing the doctor, still another for today) her daughter-in-law said there’s nothing could be done about her eyesight now, but the doctor wanted her to see a specialist anyway. I could see how weary the escort was, but she was quiet and kind too to her mom-in-law. Not feeling my greatest, but better than yesterday and thinking of all the things I had to do, this afternoon (plus having had to walk most of the way because the bus ended up only going half the route), I’d resigned myself to the wait to use it as a breather. I love my doctor, but she's really over-booked (Canada's ina current crisis for GP visits and even acquiring a GP now), and sometimes I think needs to share her practice. But she’s terrific and truly cares, and is very thorough. I credit her, along with God, for having saved my life when I got lymphoma five years ago, so I listen to her and do the waiting.


I happened to make a little conversation with the daughter-in-law, who’d kept asking the little lady, Annie, if she was alright. Annie'd only brought up once that it'd be l pm before they'd be seen, it looked like. Her daughter-in-law said softly there was nothing we can do about it. I mentioned how hard it is on them, waiting, and going to a lot of appointments, when they get older, telling her my mom is 85 now and doesn’t like to go out to these, and always feels she’d be wasting the doctor’s time for real patients! A lot of seniors feel this way.


It was then I learned that Annie is 99 years old. I was stunned. Imagine living all those years, and still patiently getting in your check-ups etc. and even now, after she saw the doctor, an ultra-sound to follow the same day. I wondered how she stood it all. But she’d just fiddled with her buttons on her sweater, doing them up at the bottom, looking around the room, and I think behind her eyes I could see her feeling disconcerted a bit for keeping her family so tied up etc. but mostly, she seemed pretty together! It was inspiring to me. We’d been booked for the same exact time, and I think when she heard that her daughter-in-law worried. Would I want to compete for that conflict? I just said, when I saw the last patient before our turns finished up, oh, I hope it’s for Annie now. But I was almost asleep by then myself, like the daughter-in-law. I also secretly hoped they didn’t catch my germs during the time frame we’d shared.

It was their turn, first. The receptionist thanked me for my patience, and I said, hey, it's a rest for me from all my chores at the last-minute. When they emerged, not too long later, I heard Annie exuberantly wishing the doctor a fine Christmas, and carrying a little wrapped gift in her hands. It made me smile to see this, knowing it was from our doctor, she’s so great with the seniors especially but all of us! The patience and delicacy, yet wise strength, of this Annie, kind of made my day, despite wondering if I’d feel like spending the time on my errands planned en route home after that. I had a birthday cake to buy, a few more gifts, my prescription to be filled, a bus to hopefully take me all the way home....and yet, I could only think about this woman, and her family, and what paths they'd followed on the journey through her 99 plus years! And so well it seemed to me, at least on the surface. But those appointments....and I felt ashamed for any brief interlude of self-pity yesterday at having to miss an annual celebrative poetry dinner I'd looked forward to. Not to mention a visit at my house today from a friend, and all the things I should be doing, for yet another cold, and going into the doctor’s for an inevitable long wait. I don’t know if I will ever reach 99, but if I do, I hope I will have such grace, and dedicated support. I think one of the secrets is to have some kind of tolerance and reticence for what we have to accept and not waste energy fighting things beyond our control.
I am currently Blessed
I am listening to cars driving home