“I’m so sorry! I just plopped myself down on your bench like
I owned it without any regard for you sitting there!” She remind me so much of
Paula Deen (had Paula straightened her hair and lessened her makeup and faded
her presence bit). I mean really a splitting image in her hair color, her eyes,
and her vocal accent. The southern drawl pulled me in at “I’m so sorry” and
held me for the rest of the conversation. (It wasn’t until the drive home that
I made the connection in the resemblance). She truly had my from the get go.
The moment she sat and spoke those words, my laptop lid was closed because I
knew this was a lady I wanted to chat with. I simply knew her as “Mrs. Willis”
(name changed for privacy; I later heard them call her name) and “Mrs. Willis
from Asheville” because later she told me where she lived as we discussed the wildfires
in the western part of the state. It was super early in the morning so I
wondered how she had driven in from Asheville to which she responded she and
her husband (also having plopped down on the bench a moment before alongside
her) had driven up the night before for today’s appointment. For once, I’m not
in the breast cancer clinic. Instead, almost a year to the day after the first
time I sat in this very clinic, I am back in the lung transplant clinic. A more
dreary place. A place that affects me in a totally different way. And here is
Mrs. Willis, intertwining herself into my story. She wore all black. And it
suited her perfectly. Not because of her demeanor, but because it set her shoulder
length (gorgeous!) silver head of hair into a sparkle like a tinsel loaded Christmas
ribbon a top her head. Then that smile, full of teeth, glared back at you while
her eyes stared into your soul. I’m not exaggerating in the least. She was straight
off a Christmas card, yet at the same time, she had a North Carolina down-to-earth
appearance about her too. She simply was a lady you wanted at your Sunday dinner
table eating corn bread and chicken, and for nothing short of 4 hours. I swear
I heard her husband utter nothing more than 4 words (all said when he almost
fell off the bench when she stood up too quick) and not because she spoke too
much (she was soft spoken and meek), but because he was reading the paper while
they sat. She simply took in the room and spoke to me while she glanced around.
It was so remarkable to me how she brought up the wildfires
within 3 minutes of sitting down. It was the very thing on my mind as she “plopped”
on the bench. I could have been thinking about a million other things as she
walked up to me. I was working on a work project as she walked over. But my
mind was drifting to those fires. Those fires, near and dear for a number of
reason had been weighing heavy. How did she know that at the very moment she
and her husband plopped, I was thinking of those fires? How did she also know that
a few minutes before she plopped, I had watched her cross the waiting room (the
jam packed waiting room!) admiring her everything. She had this demeanor that
simply spoke to me. And somehow she found herself beside me, out in the
hallway, on a bench, waiting our turn, and her bringing up the very thing that
was on my mind – wild fires.
As she sat talking about wildfires, and later, other topics,
I was becoming aware of how my behavior in the waiting room has drifted over
the last 4 years. My being an introvert naturally pulls me to the “nose in a
book”, eyes down, no contact behavior stance it’s so easy to take in a place
such as this. But I have story after story of women sparking up conversation
with me in a waiting room. Some of those stories had a huge change in my life.
Maybe some of those stories had a huge change in their life. I think of Ms.
Jocelyn (Story Here - November 20, 2015),
in her 80s and her “hard boobs” and the hysterical delight she gave me that
day, and maybe the information I was able to give her in return. I think of the
lady in her 60’s (Story Here - July 23, 2014) and the Joy exuded from her in the waiting room and also the the
lady in her 70’s (Story Here - August 13, 2016) fresh out of her procedure and the confusion I observed while
listening to her and her husband. Oh how I wish I had struck up a conversation
with both of those women. And I can only
imagine how many more stories there would have been had I NOT had my nose in
that book, or had I been the one to start the conversation. Then there were the
4 women of the mammogram waiting room (Story Here - August 25, 2015) . Wow, that was a day. There were
so many miss opportunities because I sat silent. And then there were so many
opportunities granted because some lady didn’t sit silent! I’m working hard to
be the person who gets her head out of the book. The lady who sits and waits. The
lady who makes eye contact. And the lady who welcomes conversation. I’m
wondering what kind of doors that will open by making myself available to other
people.
I didn’t do such a great job of that with Mrs. Willis (I had
my laptop open as I was tidying up some work), but I quickly remembered to shut
the laptop as soon as she sat down to set the stage for whatever God would
bring. I’m mold-able. And I love what God is doing with that. I’m working to be the person that seeks out
opportunities instead of hides myself in the introverted world I adore. There’s
a time and place for that. But I don’t think the time for that, for me, is the
waiting room. And it has taken me 4 years to get there. My story with Mrs.
Willis didn’t turn into a page turner, but it got my attention in my hearing
God remind me in saying “Sally, remember, make yourself available, and I will
use you.” He did this by having Ms. Willis speak the words about the wild fire
that were in my head the moment she spoke them. God brings things into
alignment at his timing, for his purpose, and we can either be on board or we
can thwart the moment by being caught up in ourselves (or our laptops). God,
you have my attention. You keep reminding me time and time again. Waiting room
after waiting room. I am getting on board. Thank you for bringing me Mrs.
Willis as a reminder that you bring us people for a very specific reasons. If
it takes the Lung Clinic to re-remind me, so be it. Who is your Mrs. Willis? Who is your Ms. Jocelyn. Who is God continuing to bring to your path as a reminder that he wants you to do something. To be something. To make yourself available. I am stubborn headed. I should have never needed to go all the way to Mrs. Willis. But I did. (I'm kinda glad I did, cause I truly adored her!) I am there now. I'm all in.
So I’m back to seeing Lung Guru. If you need to catch yourself
up on that story about the pulmonary fibrosis you can start reading Story Here December 2015. I
was scheduled to see her for follow-up back in September, but along came the
breast nodule and things got put on hold. I rescheduled and am now back on
board with the lung appointments. It’s time to re-do all the testing we did
last year to see if there has been any progression so I have that scheduled for
next week. The good news is there has not been any symptom progression (and
maybe in some ways there has been some improvements with day to day symptoms),
but I’ve had monthly respiratory infections since June and that is new. So we
want to work that up. The good news is she is the guru, so I am not worried
about that at all. We are being thoughtful and will figure it all out. No news
for now. Just some more testing.
Writing has been on hold for a bit as October and November
were heavy months. I don’t have specific details other than to say the world
has been heavy and I have felt the heaviness of it. I’ve been aligning myself
with God’s calling me to Be Still, and in that, to also Be Silent. So my words
to page have purposely been less. I never want to write simply because I can,
but only want to write for purpose. He called me to and through this journey,
particularly around mastectomy, but also in everyday life that unfolds after
mastectomy. Being still is part of restoration and sometimes part of being
still is being silent. Thank you for your patience as I waited that out.
I will update you again soon, I hope. Your ongoing
readership means much, and I hope his work in my steps bring even a sliver of light
also to yours.
To access previous blog posts - click HERE.
To access previous blog posts - click HERE.
