It took a while for my eyes to open; also for my eyes to focus on the clock. The green blur made me groan as it unblurred into a number. 7:00. Waking up was hard.
I dragged my body off the bed, where I fell to my knees and said a poor excuse for a prayer. “God, thanks for being there for me. I’m grateful for my life. Sorry, I’m so lazy right now.” I walked to the shower. At least I was standing. If the water didn’t turn cold, I’d have kept standing there.
Oatmeal. Garage door. Car door. Ignition. Reverse. Drive.
Cool blue air surrounded my heating car. I drove toward the doctor’s office. I knew today would be hard. I wore a white coat, and the stethoscope dangled around my neck with the feeling of a new wedding ring – pleasant, significant, enchanting. New.
“I’m here to mentor with the doctor.” “Sign in.” Open the door. 20 steps down a hallway. “Hi. Start in this second room.”
Another door. “Hi, I’m a student mentoring with the doctor. How are you?” “I’m angry.” “He’s angry and depressed. It scares me.” “I’m sad.”
Another door. “Hi, I’m a student mentoring with the doctor. How are you?” “It hurts in my arm.” “Where exactly?” “Here.”
Another door. “Hi, I’m…” “Mommy, where’s the real doctor.” (I grin) “There are two today.” “Why are there two doctors?” “Cause you’re that important.”
Another door. “Hi, I’m a student mentoring with the doctor. How are you?” “My stomach hurts.” “Where exactly?” “Here” “Does it hurt when I push on it?” “Maybe. My wife is dead.”
A moment. “How long has she been gone?” “1 year.” “How long were you married?” “52 years.”
Another moment.
Another Door. “My back hurts.” “Where exactly?” “Between my shoulder blades. I think it is the drugs.” “Drugs?” “Meth, cocaine, marijuana, and everything… always more.” “Are you on drugs right now?”
Laugh. “No! I’ve been off for years, but I think my drug days left a painful mark.”
Another door. “My leg hurts.” “Where?” “It’s like a cramp in my calf when I walk.”
What is that? What causes it? What are the risk factors? “We need to ultrasound your leg.”
Another door. Another door. Another door. I’m tired, it is time to go home. As I drive, I feel worn. I want to sleep. Garage door. Kitchen door. There stands my wife. “Will you go on a drive with me?” “I’d rather not. How about I take the baby, and you go alone?” “Never mind.”
She is sad. “What’s wrong?” She is silent, looks away. “What’s wrong?”
She walks a step or two sadly away. “What (the hell) is wrong?” “My mom called. My dad may have cancer.”
I held her. We went on a drive. We stayed up late talking. I was tired, but I couldn’t close my eyes. Why not? I said a prayer on my back. “God. Please be there for her. Thank you for her. I’m sorry I’m unable to fix this, that I wasn’t prepared to help her. I’m sorry.”