I wish I was more patient. But it seems that whether it’s something small (like waiting for the appliance delivery as I am doing right now), to something big (like medical test results), I am equally impatient.
This morning’s impatience stems from another death in the family – my refrigerator. There is nothing quite like returning from the annual trip to the beach to discover a freezer full of mush and slop. How’s that for a tag line … “Time for a new refrigerator? Much and slop got you down?”
Anyway, what a freaking mess. There’s good news however. It did make it necessary to clear out the fridge. You see, since the husband passed and the daughter drove off to school, I haven’t truly conquered cooking for one. Back it up. I haven’t conquered shopping for one. Somewhere in all that education, and years on this planet, the ability to do the necessary math to reduce a family recipe enough to make just one dinner has eluded me. I have tried all kinds of tricks from daily trips to the market to the weekly trip to the Farmer’s Market to cooking the entire recipe then freezing smaller portions. The last one seemed to make the most sense except that my freezer was WAY overstocked … well, geez, you can’t eat the same thing day in/day out so, of course, brilliant one that I am, not, I would cook more and freeze more.
And naturally I needed bags and bags of frozen fruit for my morning smoothie so those piled up on top of the portion-controlled meals and then of course all the freezer blocks to stick in my lunch to keep the goods cold until noon. Gosh golly, not a lot of room in there for circulation. Possibly might have done this (breaking the fridge) to myself. Nah. Regardless, where is that appliance guy???
How come delivery people and cable people and yes, DOCTORS, don’t have to live by the rules imposed on the rest of us? If my boss told me she wanted a report by a certain time, you can be darn skippy I would have it there to meet her deadline (if not earlier). But the delivery guys and the cable guy they have a window of hours that they may, or may not, provide the service you paid dearly for. And don’t get me going on doctors. When my husband was going through his medical screening, it was not uncommon to have to wait for long, extended periods of time to speak with the doctor. I would rationalize this as he was a great doctor, an oncologist, and he took a lot of time with each patient. That’s nice when you’re the patient but when you’re cooling your heels out in the waiting room, not so nice. Especially when you are waiting for the news of a cancer test. It was agonizing.
I would watch people sitting, patiently, alongside us in the waiting room of the oncologist. I couldn’t understand how they could be so calm – so peaceful-looking. Of course, in hindsight I think I get it … after Joe’s diagnosis I found myself imitating that same look. An observer might think I was calm, peaceful-looking but the truth? Inside I was making deals with God. How was this happening? Maybe today the results will be better. Maybe today we would have that nice long talk with the wonderful doctor and it would be all about recovery. Please, God? Please. I’ll do anything. Make this go away.
Well, it didn’t. And my vain attempts at patience were for naught. But I didn’t return to the uber-impatient person I was pre-oncologist. I can actually sit here, in the quiet home, savoring this time to write a little story while waiting, quasi-patiently, for the appliance guy. Breathe in, breathe out. OK OK, still not a person who can claim patience as a virtue … but I’m getting there.