There are those who think what I do for a living is menial. Most are doctors. But sometimes, it's me. I've covered this before, I know. I cant let it go.
There are days when I am a sandwich delivery service, or a coffee peddler, to staff who could care less if I were to have an MI right in their waiting room...just as long as they get their dumptruck-sized Mocha Frappucino.
I get down on it, and some weeks seem like an endless beating when the job goes sour.
But then, it only takes one woman to bring me back into the game.
I sat in another mindless waiting room this week, well into the hour I knew I would be forced to rest my bruised and abused behind before getting my 10 seconds of disgust by one of my least favorite primary care physicians. I sat and sat, until a woman got up from the other side of the room, and approached me.
"I'm sorry to bother you", she said, "but I noticed the drug you have and I wanted to tell you how much it helped me."
She suffered from depression. Bad depression. The kind that keeps you in bed, the kind that forces you against your will to be mean to the young children and adoring husband in your home. The kind where you cry. And cry. And cry. And worse.
She had tried to shake it, tried this drug, tried that drug, didn't seem to make enough difference to keep her from ruining the good things in her life. And then she had tried my drug.
This woman looked me square in my eyes as if to try desperately to show me her sincerity, with her tears welling up and her voice shaking. And she thanked me as if I had mixed it in my own kitchen, like it was my idea from the getgo, like I was somehow her savior. And as I tried to play it off to research, and a great company, blah blah, she was disinterested, and simply said, "Thank you".
Now, I am not going to try to make this a rah-rah post for Jay...this is about how she made me feel about what I do for a living. You see, I put up with repeated abuse from her doctor, but endured it to do the job..to pass along the information, and make a case for trying something different. And at some point, he heard me. And then this woman came to see him. And he tried what I suggested.
And she got better.
And her kids are happier. And her husband loves her. And she doesn't cry so much anymore. More for happy things than sad.
And today, I feel better.
Writer’s Workshop: Winter The Greyhound
2 days ago