On Monday I went to the eye doctor, and again I was impressed with how genuine he seems. He talked about waiting in a long line at Trader Joe's, because his wife had sent him for one thing, and it took him forty minutes in line. That was after immediately apologising for taking so long to see me. I said it's the season of waiting and practicing patience, and relayed my own account of going to Costco with my son to shop for our holiday party. His cheerfulness and the ordinary, relaxed nature of what he was saying makes me trust him all the more. He's a real person seeing us as real people and not authoritarian or rushed at all.
He has a gift, and he reaps the reward of making his patients more cheerful and less fearful. I calm down in his presence.
I've been attempting to emulate him in my interactions since the appointment, and I have a good job, I think. But last night I woke up and worked myself into a panic about the holidays, and not being able to find papadums for the party and needing to figure out how the diaper pail and portacrib I bought for our grandson to use while here could possibly work. When I got up this morning, I took two tylenol and repeated to myself ten times "it will all work out". When I told my husband about my sleeplessness he immediately offered to do anything to help, and I realized I need to take him up on it. Nothing needs to be perfect, there is plenty of family to help, and we're all in the long line to the destination of Christmas.
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