That's how long I was at my PCP's office this morning. I'm not complaining. Much. D and I both had appointments and they weren't one right after the other, either, due to circumstances that are too long and boring to go into. Plus our PCP is always running late. Always. If you don't have the first appointment of the day, you can kind of take the time written on your little card as a "suggestion" rather than a fact.
So that meant a lot of time in the waiting room, together and separately. I continue to marvel--well, that's a strong word, but--at how well D does in these situations now, compared to two years ago or probably even last year. It's like I think he isn't making any progress or getting any better because it's so slow and incremental, and then he handles something with the grace a "normal" person would, and I'm astounded all over again.
But that's not what I set out to write about. That's just incidental. What I set out to write about involves watching the other people in the waiting room. Most of them didn't do anything or say anything particularly interesting, but, y'know, I people-watch. Anyway, I was just saying the other day that one should never disparage anyone else's parenting (especially if you don't have kids of your own, but also as a general rule.) So there I am, watching this (young) mother with a tiny baby in a carseat/carrier. She has the bottle propped up with a blanket, while she, the mom, is texting away. Do you think I wanted very badly to go over and say, "Put that fucking phone down and feed your child correctly"? Yes, I certainly did. And then I admonished myself and went on minding my own business and sending nonjudgmental lovingkindness out to the universe. Or something like that.
xoxo
P.S. Blogger spellcheck doesn't think texting is a word.
2 comments:
First I wanted video of the prison bus. Now I want video of your PCP's waiting room. Now *there* is reality TV.
Never forget that the secret to getting to the head of the waiting room line is either to have or fake chest pain, or have a hemorrhage. Not that they necessarily care about the hemorrhage, but you'll mess up the carpet.
It's right down the street from our mutual Whole Foods! Bright blue building, hard to miss. I'm sure you could drop by any time and just hang out! There'll be so many people in the waiting room, no one will notice you aren't actually supposed to be there.
:-)
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