The cold air was biting me on my neck as I scooted into the hospital entrance. With shuffling steps I pressed my hands against the glass of the revolving door. The same glass that says "Please Do Not Push The Glass--Door is Automatic." But, man, I was cold and placing my weight against that door makes it seem like I'll get inside sooner.
Yeah, yeah. You know you do it, too.
So, in I walk. And just as I do, I see this Grady elder trying to get into the disabled entrance next to the revolving doors. She was in a wheel chair, and was doing her very best to get the door ajar enough to roll into it. I quickly stepped over to assist her, an action that isn't unique to me at all at Grady, but one that any person passing by would have done. Folks around Grady are just chivalrous like that.
"I can help you, ma'am," I said. I pulled back the door and, in a rather exaggerated gesture, held my body out of her path against the wall.
"'Preciate you, sugar."
"My pleasure. Is it cold enough out there for you?"
"Cold? Woooo, whatchoo talkin' bout?"
She gave me an animated shudder in her chair. We both chuckled.
"Where are you headed in the hospital?" I queried.
"Pardon?"
"I was asking you where in the hospital you had to go to this morning."
She narrowed her eyes at me while repeatedly cleaning the front of her teeth off with her tongue. (Why she was doing this, I do not know, but she was so I feel the need to include that part for imagery.)
I'm almost positive that she was giving me the hairy eyeball which, in this case, I did not feel was warranted.
"Everything okay, ma'am?"
"What?"
"I'm sorry did I say or do something wrong?" I finally asked. Because her hairy eyeball was now even hairier.
"Naaaw. You jest sho' got a whole bunch of questions. Lawd. I woulda got in that door on my own if I knew you was gon' keep me here talkin' like this."
I felt my face get hot, but then a big smile erupted over my face along with a chuckle from deep in my chest. "Daaaang. That's cold."
We both laughed again.
"You's a chatty little thang, ain't you?" She wiped her tongue across her teeth, but this time the sides with a sucking sound. It was actually kind of gross, but since she was a Grady elder and this was already a blogworthy moment, it kind of made me happy instead of grossed out.
"I was about to see if you needed me to push you somewhere to get you there quicker, but since you called me out like that, I changed my mind."
"Baby, this thang is automatic. What I look like rolling a wheelchair with my arms far as I got to go?"
"Aaah. My bad."
"Besides. I'm too old to be pushing my own wheelchair."
"How many years you got under your belt?" I smiled at her innocently.
"Did you just ask me how old I am? How old you is?"
"Forty two."
"Forty two!"
I laughed at her reaction. "Forty two. Yes, ma'am!"
"Damn."
"Whaaat? I look younger than that?"
"Naaww. You jest got a lot of greys in yo' head to be only in your forties. Most folk don't get all that 'til they make 'bout fifty-five. Why you ain't colored it?"
"I used to. Now I kind of like it."
"Gon' make you look older."
"I'm okay with looking my age."
"I said 'older.' Not yo' age."
I nodded my head and smiled while looking down at my feet. "Gotcha."
"You gon' be full on grey by the time you fifty years old. What yo' husband say about all that?"
"Eh. He's cool with it."
"Do he got a lotta grey, too?"
"No, ma'am. He doesn't have any."
"You betta think about that while you let yo' whole head get grey. He gon' look like a young man and you gon' look like a grandmama."
"Dang. That's cold." I couldn't stop laughing at her brutal honesty. She was NOT EVEN joking. Just sucking her teeth, otherwise this was not a joke but some real talk. She took the liberty to say more.
"Even though your face don't look that old grey is funny like that. You gon' look old if you keep letting your hair go like that."
"I hear you."
"Y'all got some kids?"
I took a deep sigh because this could now go anywhere. "Yes, ma'am. We have two boys, seven and six."
"Seven and six! What you doin' forty two years old and got kids that little?"
Uhhh. Didn't know how to answer that.
"They gon' think you the grandmama. You betta color that hair, girl. 'Fore somebody be coming up to you talkin' 'bout you they grandmama."
With that one I just squeezed my eyes shut and tried my best to conceal the laugh that was trying burst out of me.
"Uuuuh, didn't you have somewhere you had to be?" I finally said. "I mean, I wouldn't have held that door for you if I knew you would start busting on my grey hair like this."
She narrowed her eyes again and pointed at me with her long pointer finger. "You got me, baby. Guess I like to talk, too."
We both had a final laugh in unison.
"Have a good day, hear?"
"Yes, ma'am. You, too. And good talking to you."
"Yeah, you was talkin', that's for sure." She threw her head back and laughed good and hard one last time.
Daaaang.
After that, she blew the smoke off of her gun and rolled off into the sunset. (Oh, and by sunset I mean toward the Grady E elevators.)
Ha.
This, my friends, is Grady. And on most days, I really think I was born to work at this place. This? This was absolutely one of those days.
***
Happy Thursday. Now playing on my mental iPod. . . . .ha ha ha. . .Run DMC with "You Talk Too Much."
It's my birthday, y'all! And in case you didn't know it--42 is the new 42! I have no issue with my age and don't mind you telling somebody. Yes. 4-2. Not to be confused with 3-2 or whatever other number somebody prefers. I'm glad to be the age I am. Sure am.
The more that I learn, the less that I know.
Never thought I would want to slow down.
Just focus on clouds in blue skies,
Above all the rain, the sun shines. It's just an ordinary day. . .
I'm much to strange for this ordinary world.
~ from the television show "Smallville"
Short coiff = blasphemy or illness according to Grady elders
_________________________________
In the Resident's Clinic yesterday:
Resident: "Hey Dr. Manning. . . Mr. Purifoy is here and told me to make sure you saw him before he left. He was asking about you."
Me: "Oh yay! Love Mr. Purifoy!"
Resident: "Yeah, he's a pretty awesome guy. He's in room 46, okay?"
Me: "Gotcha. Thanks!"
Two minutes later in room 46
Me: *knocking on door and peering head inside of the room* "Hey there Mr. Purifoy!
Grady elder: "Hey sugar! I was jest askin' 'bout you!"
*gives me the hairy eyeball*
Me: "What's wrong, Mr. P?"
Grady elder: *sucks teeth* "You cut your hair some more?"
Me: *rubbing my head* "Uhhh, probably. I cut it every chance I get."
Grady elder: "But whhhyyyyy? Why you do that?"
Me: *chuckling* "Awww, Mr. Purifoy! Why you busting on my hair today?"
Grady elder: *squinting eyes* "And it look like it got grey since I seent you last! You meant to do that? Cut it and grey it? Maybe tha's my cataracts actin' up!"
Me: *cracking up laughing*
Grady elder: *now looking serious* "I'm not laughing, Miss Manning. I'm for real. Why you keep on cutting off your hair, sugar? Why you do that?"
Me: *taking zero offense considering this comes up often with me and the Grady elders* "Ha ha. . . . you never have been a fan of this short hair have you Mr. Purifoy?"
Grady elder: "I jest always think a lady look so niiiice when she got her hair long on her shoulders.. . .'specially when it look all silky. I bet if you stopped cuttin' on yours it'd grow clear down your back."
Me: *shudder* "Eek."
Grady elder: "Bet it sho' would."
Me: "Actually, Mr. P., I can assure you that this is true."
Grady elder: "What? Then yo' hair does grow? Then why you cut it all off? What would make you do such a thing, Miss Manning? What your mama say when she saw that?"
Me: *laughing still* "I don't know what to answer first, Mr. P!"
Grady elder: "Like what was the whole thang goin' through your head when you set down someplace and told somebody to cut all your hair off your head like that?"
Me: "Uhhhh. . . .well, let's see. I was thinking, 'This might be real cute.'"
Grady elder: *nose wrinkled*
Me: "Dang, that's cold, Mr. P."
Grady elder: "And you such a pretty little thang, too."
Me: "Guess what, Mr. Purifoy? You won't believe this but my husband loves my hair short. I grew it to my chin after my last baby and he liked to have passed out when I cut it back off! He was so happy!"
Grady elder: "Happy?"
Me: "Happy."
Grady elder: *snort*
Me: *snort back*
Grady elder: "What he said about them grey hairs popping up in front?"
Me: "It was his idea for me to stop fighting it. We call it 'The Anderson Cooper Look'."
Grady elder: "The who?"
Me: "Never mind. Hey! Your blood pressure and blood sugar look really good today! Your resident doctor just showed me your numbers."
Grady elder: "Yeah, that new pill she gave me helped a lot."
Me: "Good! Have you thought more about the cigarettes?"
Grady elder: "Naaaaaw, don't even start either, hear? Hey! You know that girl. . what her name. . . BE-yawn-say?"
Me: "Beyonce? Do I know her? Uhh, no. Do I know OF her? Uhhh, yeah. She just had a baby, you know?"
Grady elder: "A who? Oh, well my granddaughter say she take them hair weaves to make her hair so long like that. So you know, if you wont that kind of hair you can jest pay for it you know."
Me: *laughing out loud* "Now you're trying to get me a weave, Mr. Purifoy?"
Grady elder: "It's jest that I don't know about all these pretty women with these little boy hair cuts." *shakes head* "When I was coming up the only folks with hair like that was sick."
Me: "Sick? W-ow."
Grady elder: *looks apologetic* "I was just suggesting it in case you wonted a change or something."
Me: "I know, Mr. P. I'll keep it in mind, okay?"
Grady elder: "Alright then, sugar."
Me: *smiling*
Grady elder: "And I'm workin' on them cigarettes, hear? It's jest been more than fifty years so it's hard, baby. But I'mon try."
Me: "Good, Mr. P." *squeezing his hand for a moment* "Okay then, sir. . . Let me go ahead and let your doctor finish wrapping up the visit, okay? So good seeing you as always."
Grady elder: *looking pensive*
Me: "Sir?"
Grady elder: "Look here, Miss Manning. . ."
Me: *hand on the doorknob with raised eyebrows*
Grady elder: "I didn't hurt your feelins did I? Sayin' all that stuff about your hairdo?"
Me: "Not one bit, Mr. Purifoy!"
Grady elder: "Oh good, baby. Cawse you know I love you don't you? Even with your hairdo like that."
Me: *palm on chest* "You know what? I do know that, sir. And I love you right back."
Nope. Not offended. Nope. Not annoyed. Because this? This is the best part of what I do. The people. The relationships. The funny little exchanges. The laughter and the hand squeezes. All of these things swirling together every single day and all of these things that make these ordinary days feel so extraordinary.
That's all I've got today.
Hey. . . .Pay attention to something ordinary today. . . . and find the extraordinary in it, hear?
***
Happy Tuesday.
Now playing on my mental iPod. . . .Greg Jones' Smallville anthem -- "It's just an ordinary day." Couldn't embed it, sorry!
You announced that greeting to me while craning your head out of the door of a clinic room. Me, I was hustling and bustling through the hallways trying to get things situated for the afternoon session. I glanced back in your direction and couldn't help but slow down.
"Hey sir! What you know good?" I spoke to you in that easy and familiar language that we both know so well.
"Awww, I ain't no count!" And then you laughed out loud, slapped your knee, and then winced a bit. "Woooo! I bet' not stir ol' Arthur up."
Arthur. As in Arthur-itis.
I stopped in the doorway with a stack of papers in my hands and smiled at you. Today you were alone instead of with your daughter. This was fine because even though she sees about you, you "do for yah'self." Your dark leathery complexion has weathered the storm of your "eighty-some-odd" years quite well and I decide today that I love it all. Including those milky, bluish rings now filling the irises of your aging eyes. An interestingly beautiful contrast against that coffee-colored complexion.
Yes, I love it all because it represents so much of what I love about Grady. Storms weathered with beautiful contrasts.
"I don't think I recall you havin' so much gray hair, Miss Manning!" You announced this in that unapologetic way that only the Grady elders can. "But tha's alright. I still think you a pretty little thang."
Pretty little thang? Ha. That's what I'm talking about.
I carefully watched you as your mouth moved. Cheeks with deeply chiseled lines and scarce remains of what was once a beard pasted around your chin and cheeks. The teeth in your mouth looked to be the ones you were born with; large and rectangular but now with a tannish hue and old school dental work gleaming from the sides. Your neck with its redundant skin is supported by shoulders that have remained unusually broad and strong.
"Chopping wood," you said. "Asked my grandson to do it, but he ain't no count." We both laughed again.
You've taken the liberty of removing your coat, folding it neatly on top of the plastic bag you'd carried in that day. And like the perfect patient that you are, you'd also removed every single one of your medication bottles from that same bag and lined them right up on the table.
"I stopped coloring it," I added in reference to the gray hair again. "Too much trouble, you know?"
"Yeah, I hear you. I never got too much gray but I thank I woulda took the gray over losing it all!" You cackled while rubbing your shiny hairless scalp. Then you slapped that knee again and woke ol' Arthur up again. "I jest went on and shaved on off. It never really came back after that."
"Less trouble though, right?"
"Reckon it is!"
I saw your cane leaning against the wall. Weathered but still quite functional. Just like you.
"Knee still giving you a lot of trouble?"
"You know? Not as bad since they inject that medicine in it. But you know, these ol' knees been good to me so I manage just fine. This right one like to get stiff in the mornings. He get to loosenin' up as I get up and around though." The pronoun reference to your knee warmed my heart. You warmed my heart even more. I knew I could stand there talking to you all day so I decided to move on.
"Alright then, sir. Your doctor is checking your lab work and will be in here in a few minutes."
"Okay then, baby. Good seeing you, alright?"
"You, too, sir."
"And Miss Manning? Keeping a smile on your face make you look prettier than any old hair dye can any day."
That's what I'm talking about.
One of the nurses overheard that part as she came in to check supplies in the room. I looked over at her from the doorway. "You hear that? That was a good word, huh?"
She laughed and replied, "Ummm hmmm. But I think I'm gonna smile AND dye my hair."
Honestly? I write this blog to share the human aspects of medicine + teaching + work/life balance with others and myself -- and to honor the public hospital and her patients--but never at the expense of patient privacy or dignity.
Thanks for stopping by! :)
"One writes out of one thing only--one's own experience. Everything depends of how relentlessly one forces from this experience the last drop, sweet or bitter, it can possibly give."
~ James Baldwin (1924 - 1987)
"Do it for the story." ~ Antoinette Nguyen, MD, MPH
Details, names, time frames, etc. are always changed to protect anonymity. This may or may not be an amalgamation of true,quasi-true, or completely fictional events. But the lessons? They are always real and never, ever fictional. Got that?
