Wednesday, February 2, 2011

The Coat

"I like your coat!" she suddenly exclaimed, after paying her bill at the doctor's office.
I was in line behind her, or actually to the side. I had to lean against the glass wall that separated us from the secretary because my body was frail and ailing after the last laparoscopic surgery. I could hardly keep my eys open and I just wanted to sit or lay down. Why was I there, anyway, if I had just come out of another infernal surgery? Because the superstitious side of me did not want to give up an acupuncture session, in case it was working, and breaking the cycle would mean having to start all over again. Anyway, "I like your coat"! That exclamation woke me up and suddenly brought me back to the word of the living. What was it supposed to mean? My coat? My bright ,pink, long parka? "I like it too" - I wanted to say - but instead I just replied with an "I like yours! It's longer and warmer - same color. Yes, I like it!"

I took a closer look at her. She had just paid a receipt to go see Dr. Bailey, one of the doctors that I also see. The pain doctor, to be specific. I started wondering...she must be in pain, I thought. I wonder what phase of pain she is in. Her face is still chubby, no make up, but uniform color throughout. She must be at the beginning of her journey or she would have dark circles under her eyes, wild hair, abundant make-up to conceal her tiredness and frustration, and bushy eybrows like mine.
Instead, she still looked relatively relaxed - although slow in her motions.

It's my turn to pay the $70.00 for acupuncture. But the bright, long, pink parka and the woman keeping warm under it do not leave my mind. They come back and haunt me late at night, when I can't fall asleep. We have more than a long and pink parka in common. We are two frail individuals dealing with pain. I wonder what type of pain she has. Has she been suffering long? Was she there for something easy to resolve or was she a "no hope" case like mine? Was she trying to reach out to me? Did she need a friend? Someone who would understand her pain? I know I do.

I wonder...maybe I will see her again. I shall make the effort to reach out.