Yesterday while waiting to get a chest x-ray (see earlier rant about this lousy winter), a woman sitting near me asked if I thought the Peace plant between us was real. Before I could answer she started talking and I learned the following about her:
She had stage three lung cancer but was doing fine now, just needed a chest x-ray for follow up. A few years ago she was homeless and the mother of her daughter’s friend took them both in, made sure they were fed and never asked for anything in return. She is on SSDI and is waiting for the next check to get her furniture out of storage. She wants to give this furniture to the mother of her daughter’s friend because recently her house burned down. Her daughter had a falling out with this friend but now they are talking again. Her sister had breast cancer but they caught it early. She thinks the woman living in the apartment above her has a thing for her husband and is trying to make a move for him. This neighbor (a 60 year old women, never married, no children, and now she knows why) watches for her to leave and then tries to bum cigarettes off her husband.
I learned all this in the 3 or 4 minutes we sat together before I got called in for my x-ray. Here’s what she learned about me during this time:
I like Peace plants.
At my next doctor’s appointment (it was a long day), there was a white haired women, probably in her eighties, wearing shiny gold bowling shoes. Her smile could melt snow banks.
Everywhere I go there are stories.
So much material, so little time.