Lean on me.

When you work at the only hospital that turns NO ONE away? Sometimes it gets kind of busy. And on the busiest times of your busiest days? That means either be taking a few flights of stairs to save time OR stepping into an elevator filled to the brim with me and you, yo mama, and your cousin, too. (Somebody missed that.)

Ha.

Okay so check it: I was up on the 11th floor at lunchtime today and was trying to get down to the ground floor. And OH--random sidebar--while I HAVE been known to bust out 11 flights going UP the stairs, as a rule, I almost never walk DOWN anything over 3 flights. (See: Knee replacement surgery - no thank you.)

Anywho.

After what felt like 300 trillion green arrow UP elevators coming and going, I finally see that luscious red DOWN arrow light up with a "ting." The doors slowly part and all I see is racks on racks on racks of people. All heights, all weights, all ethnicities. Some in Grady uniform attire, some in street clothes, some in white coats, and one dude in a hospital gown tied like a kimono with a Newport tucked behind his ear. They were shoulder to shoulder all the way to the front.

A lady right next to the key pad offered me a quasi-apologetic shrug from across the threshold of the lift. She looked around herself and said,"Pretty packed here. Next one?"

I threw my head back and diabolically laughed in response.

Okay, I didn't really do that, but she had me confused if she thought I wasn't getting on that elevator. With no shame in my game, I slid right on in next to her. She cleared her throat and pressed her back against the wall.

Sorry, not sorry.

A man in the middle of the pack said, "When you've been working at Grady long enough, ain't no such thing as a elevator too full." A lady in a Food Services uniform chimed in, "I know that's right!" We wanted to laugh but decided against it.

The next-to-the-keypad lady was looking salty especially after our little peanut gallery commentary. I decided to try cheering her up. "You looking over at me like, 'No this doctor lady DIDN'T step her behind on this already full elevator!'" Her face immediately went from aggravated to warm. "Mmmm hmmm. . .I see you judging me. Mmmmm hmmm. But real talk, I'm hongry. Not hungry--HONGRY." That made her laugh out loud.

Which made me happy.

The door opened on 7a and two more people slipped into crevices. Then a Grady elder with a platinum combover said, "Grady the only place where a crowd in a tight space don't damn near give me a heart attack. My fear of not getting to this cafeteria got my fear of this elevator BEAT!"

Everybody howled.

We stopped on 5 with a bit of jolt. A lady lost her footing and stumbled into the middle-of-the-pack man. He steadied her with his two hands. Then--I kid you not--he threw his head back and started singing in a LOUD, TERRIBLE singing voice.

"LEAN ON ME! WHEN YOU WANT LUNCH THEN I'LL BE YOUR FRIEND!"

I started clapping and joined in, "I'LL HELP YOU CARRY ON--come on, y'all!"
THEN--OMG--y'all!! EVERYBODY chimed in either singing, clapping or both.

"FOR IT WON'T BE LONG. . .TILL I'M GONNA NEED. . . . . SOMEBODY TO LEEEEEEEAN ON!"

We all exploded in cheers and laughter. Right after that, the doors flew open on the second floor and let out half of the people, including the platinum-combover man that was heading to the cafeteria. And a few moments later, the rest of us filed out on the ground floor. . . .offering these knowing smirks and giggles to one another as we slipped pass the folks trying to get on.

Best. Thing. Ever.

If you DON'T work at Grady, you'd think I made this up. But if you do? You know it's as plausible as rain on a Tuesday in Atlanta.

Love that this is the song he chose--especially because it embodies all that we do at Grady. I walked down the street humming and hearing Bill Withers smokey voice singing the rest of those words on my mental iPod:

***
"You just call on me brother--if you need a hand. 
We all need somebody to lean on.
I just might have a problem that you understand
We all need somebody to lean on.
If there is a load you have to bear 
that you can't carry
I'm right up the road, I'll share your load
If you just call me. . . . call me. . .if you need a friend. . ."

Seriously? Seriously.


Whew. Yeah, man.
***
Happy Rainy Tuesday.

Now playing on my mental iPod. . . . 

Two for the price of one.

Her: "You a extrovert, ain't you?"
Me: *pointed at my chest* "Me? Extrovert? Hmmm. I definitely think of myself as a lover of people. But I'm not so sure I'm a true extrovert."
Her: "Chile please. Extroverts feel at their best with people around. That's where they get all their energy. That's you."
Me: *shifting in my seat* "I'm not so sure that's what I am."
Her: "No?"
Me: "Nope."
Her: *eyes squinted*
Me: "I'm serious. Like. . .I like being alone with myself and my thoughts . . .like. . .a lot, actually. After that, I like the people parts. Because I like thinking with other people and hearing their thoughts on certain ideas, too."
Her: "So what's that make you? An introvert? You AIN'T no introvert. I don't care what you say."
Me: "Sometimes I think I'm an introvert with very good social skills. But I become an extrovert when I feel very, very comfortable and safe."
Her: *nodding head* "That make sense."

I crossed my legs and leaned back in the bedside chair. This interaction felt comfortable and safe. Maybe that's why she accused me of being an extrovert. That made the corner of my mouth turn up.. I propped my foot on a pulled down hand rail on the bed, slid on my reading glasses and pulled my patient list out of my pocket.

Her: "Miss Manning?"
Me: "Ma'am?"
Her: "Do you ever. . . get lonely?"

Lonely?

I bit the inside of my cheek and gave her question real, true thought. I closed my eyes and took an inventory of my feelings to see if "lonely" would bubble up to the top.

It did not. I realized that that was a blessing that I'd not thought of before then. Not feeling particularly lonely.

Me: "No. I don't really think so."
Her: "Even when you by yourself?"
Me: "Especially when I'm by myself. I crack myself up."
Her: "Ha ha ha . . .that's good."

The room filled again with the ambient noise of the hospital ward and the overhead television.
Her: "I ain't never been lonely a day in my life. My whole life."
Me: "Wow. Do you think it's because you're an introvert?"
Her: "Naaaaw. It's 'cause I'm a GEMINI."

I swung my head towards her and looked confused. In response, she held up two fingers at me and winked.

Her: "That's 'cause it's TWO of us. And both of us like each other."

We both laughed out loud. I gave her hand a squeeze and headed to the door.

Me: "I'll see y'all later."
Her: "You know where to find us."

That I do.  :)

Yeah.

***
Happy Monday.

3 kinds.

"The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference. 

The opposite of art is not ugliness, it's indifference. 

The opposite of faith is not heresy, it's indifference. 

And the opposite of life is not death, it's indifference."

- Elie Wiesel

I was sitting in the bedside chair talking to a Grady elder. I'd finished rounding and had come back by to spend some time in the late afternoon. This was a practice I've had since my intern year, taught to me by one of my favorite attending physicians. "Just pick one person or two every day. And go and sit with them. That's it."

Best advice ever.

The television was on over our heads and was on "The Jerry Springer Show." I realized then that, were it not for moments such as this one, I'd not even know the show still aired. Two women were fighting. Allegedly, the same gentleman had fathered their children within like 2 weeks. Instead of being mad at him, they were mad at each other. The crowd was screaming and roared even louder when one person lost a clip on pony tail.

Me: "This is a mess."
Her: "Bless they hearts. Poor chil'ren."

Another woman came flying out of the audience like superman. Her arms were swinging like windmills and legs kicking in the direction of the woman holding the pony tail. The security dude on the show feigned some deep interest in holding her back. The only thing less believable was the quasi-alarmed and stunned look on Jerry Springer's face sitting in the chair across from them.

Poor chil'ren indeed.

Her: "You know what Dr. Manning?"
Me: "What's that?"
Her: "There's three kinds of people in this world."
Me: *turning my head toward her and readying myself for this good word*
Her: "There's the ones who wish you WELL, see. Then there's the ones who wish you HELL."
Me: *silence*
Her: *silence*
Me: *turning my head from the TV to her* "That was only two."
Her: "Two what?"
Me: "Two types. What's the third type?"
Her: ""Oh the last one? Those the ones who don't even see you. They the worse ones of all."
Me: "Hmmm."
Her: "See, they the ones that don't give a damn if you live, die, or fall off in a ditch never to be heard from or seen again."
Me: "Dang."
Her: "Worse than that. They don't even know you there. And they don't even know that they don't know, neither."
Me: *raising eyebrows* "Wow."

*silence*

Things on the television got calm for a moment. But then another guy came from back stage as some kind of surprise. He was reportedly the boyfriend of the two-baby daddy. The crowd went berserk again. And, once more, Jerry Springer looked fake-stunned.

Her: "You know what? I'll take a person who wish me hell over the one who don't see me any day. I'd rather you come at me fighting, kicking and trying to punch me than just walk by me altogether. 'Cause at least THEN I know you feel something."
Me: *silence, just listening*
Her: "If you hateful to me, it just say something about how you feel about your own self. So those folks I just feel sorry for and steer clear of, you know? But them ones who don't even acknowledge you?" *shakes her head* "They do the most damage 'cause you can't even change they heart. They cold as ice."

This time I moved my whole body in the bedside chair to face her. I thought about all that she'd seen in her nearly 8 decades and all of the people she'd experienced. She knew what she was talking about.

Her: "Just 'cause you look in somebody direction don't mean you see."
Me: "Wow. I have to remember that. 'Some people wish you well and some people wish you hell.'"
*pause*
Her: "And the rest you can't tell. . . . 'cause you so invisible that they don't give a shit."

So sad. But so true.

Damn.

***
Happy Sunday.