Enter hospital. Observe, and ask one question: “Am I in a social fabric that is safe and caring?” Expected answer, from stressed, overwhelmed patient, “I should be.” From caregiver, “We try to make it that way.”
Shook hands with a hospital co-worker. Gave my wife a pen as she signed over her car’s pink slip to a relative of that co-worker. Then grabbed my jaw from the floor when we learned that my wife’s former car is now being driven by a member of a Hmong family my wife came to know as a Head Start teacher more than a decade ago in southeast Fresno. A warm moment in Fresno County, a small family of a million people.
Travel. Wait. Browse emails, avoid dog-eared magazines. Then, weight, blood pressure. The assistant: What are we seeing you for? Eventually, your chart rattles out of its door rack. The hosanna moment – maybe 15 of them with your family doc.
Knee surgery, a wheelchair will be involved at some point. Going home from obstetrics with your baby, wheelchair. Possible events that might put you --- briefly or near-permanently – in a wheelchair are as numerous as grains of sand in a large hourglass.