Thursday, April 23, 2009

something new

Since my sister's twins were born (and they are seven now), they both had these odd growths on their bones—usually at joint locations, but including their ribs. They’re little bumps, though some are larger than others. Some of their poor little fingers and toes just looked deformed. Someone mentioned to my sister that if these bumps continued to increase in size, she should probably have them looked at, so she made an appointment at the clinic yesterday. This is the clinic where MJ works.

One twin, who has been experiencing some atypical anxiety lately, expressed fear about going to a doctor’s office. Her mom had told her they would probably take some x-rays, and knowing nothing about that, she nearly had a panic attack. So I had explained to her what getting x-rays is like, and I told her if it made her feel any better I would go with her. She liked that idea. So when my sister made the appointment yesterday, she let me know about it, and I made arrangements to be there. Fortunately it was at the end of the day, so I only had to leave work an hour early.

I got there before they did. My sister had told me where the pediatrics department was, so I went up to the second floor where I could see the parking lot, and waited there at the window. I had never been in the clinic before. I looked around and took it all in, thinking, “This is MJ’s second home.” She’s worked there for eight years—all of her working life. I read the names on the window leading to the reception area and saw the name of the practitioner MJ has become tight with. Her mother’s office was also somewhere on this floor.

At one time, I would have been riddled with anxiety being there. I would have sent MJ a text, letting her know where I was so that she could sneak away from her desk and find me. I would have been wary of being seen by her mother—or anyone else who would pass on information to her mother. We would have reveled in the secret pleasure of seeing each other and being able to talk in a place where we wouldn’t normally have been at the same time.

But all that was past, and I could stand there, waiting, just imagining what life once was and how I was glad it was not that way anymore.

MJ was there, and she met us in the reception area and proudly led us around to where we needed to go, holding the baby like she was her own niece. She made sure to show me her desk and where she spent her time, which, at one time would have been important and fascinating to me. Now it just seemed kind of cute of her.

I guess this is called progress. And I have to say, I like it.


  1. That's wonderful. I'm glad you felt good that your life had changed in that respect. (you did say you felt glad about that). That's cool. I think I'm jealous. (I don't see that I'd be able to handle talking to E. for another 15 years. but maybe I'm just exaggerating). ;-)
    Good work.


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