I have always believed that things happen for a reason. That everything happens to/for me propels me towards an unknown goal. Sometimes, I think that unknown goal is to leave me cold and destitute somewhere where it snows 350 days of the year. Regardless, I believe that everyone you meet plays a role in your end goal, as you play in theirs. Never does this mean more to me than at work. As most of you know, I work almost exclusively with oncology patients. One bad experience at a hospital and it can change their entire outlook on their prognosis. I always try to make it as easy as possible on them and in return, I get some of the most heartfelt thanks a person can receive. Anyway, back to my point. I believe that people come into your life, as fleeting as the encounter may be, for a reason. I've had a couple of encounters recently that have enforced that belief.
About two weeks ago, I read my cousin's blog (jenniferandtrent.blogspot.com). I often check it because Jennifer is really good about posting pictures of three of the most adorable boys known to men. I checked it and she had posted that they had just put down one of their labs, Oscar. This really got to me because a) Oscar is a yellow lab mix, just like Rocky (my dog) and b) the way the boys responded by wanting to bury a treat in the backyard so Oscar would have it in Heaven. I was actually pretty sad about it for a week or so when I just happened to strike up a conversation with a patient's family member. She was an elderly lady who had been married to her husband for over 60 years! Anyway, she asked me the question (actually two) that almost every married woman asks me. "Are you married?" and "Do you have children?" My answer to the first question is always, "God, no!" While the answer to my second is, "I have a dog, that's plenty." The lady preceded to tell me about all of the dogs and how all of them died at an early age of some weird, rare disease. I guess she could tell she was depressing the hell out of me because she looked me dead in the eye and said, "I may have lost them all early, but I wouldn't change a thing. I've never learned more than when I owned a dog. I keep getting more. That means something." For some reason, this made me feel better about the whole thing. I just hope the boys remember how much they loved Oscar, not how badly they felt when he died.
My next encounter was just plain funny. I have major issues with balance and coordination. Anyone who knows me, or has seen me walk, can back me up. I was running down the stairs trying to get to work, late as usual (thank you Washington, DC public transportation). When I misjudged a step and fell backwards on the stairs. Don't ask me how, it just happened. As I was doing this remarkable display of gymnastics, the director of my department walked into the stairwell and saw the whole thing. My ability to speak completely left and I was mortified. Inside, I was beating myself up and thinking that something like this could only happen to me. My director looked at me and said, "Well, if the only bad thing I can say about you is that you can't walk down stairs, then I think you're doing alright." I don't think there is anything else he could have said. His little off the cuff remark has made me feel much better about taking the leap to move to a much bigger city. Things have been a little rough, but something tells me it might just be working out.
No comments:
Post a Comment