Last week, I was at the lab for a (routine) blood test. There were several people ahead of me; there was a 20 minute wait. I was sitting in the waiting room, listening with half an ear to the TV. It showed a number of ads for medical treatments and I didn’t really pay attention until the guy sitting across from me said” That’s what I have.”
I looked at him as he jerked a thumb at the TV and continued, ” Rheumatoid arthritis. That’s what I have.” Perhaps my incomprehension showed on my face or perhaps he just wanted to unburden himself, because it all came pouring out.
” Every two weeks I gotta get my meds otherwise the pain is more than I can bear. It costs me $ 386 each time but, luckily, the insurance takes care of it. Then , because the medications are so strong, every four weeks I’ve gotta have a blood test to make sure there ain’t no side effects.”
I really felt for the guy as I wondered how he managed. Since I felt some response was expected of me, I shook my head in commiseration and asked him how long he had had this condition. ” John”( not his real name) then proceeded to tell me his life story.
He has been diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis at 21, but it was only after the age of 32 that the disease really worsened. He was now 57 and he had been on medications for 25 years. Without them, he said, he would have to just lie in bed because the pain was too intense. The meds caused their own problems; after taking them he was unable to do much for the next couple of hours. He was on partial disability and he worked part time as a landscape architect. Luckily, he said his boss was understanding and allowed him to set his own schedules , within reason. After the blood test, John said he would be going to work. Since his condition prevented him from driving, he would have to take a Uber to the office. All of this was said in a matter-of-fact voice. He wasn’t looking for sympathy, just making a statement of fact.
I just sat there, wondering at the hand that a cruel fate had dealt him. I didn’t want to ask any questions because that would have been intrusive and besides, I really didn’t want to hear more. What would be the point? Just then, my name was called. I wished John well and went in for my blood test but I kept thinking about him for the rest of the day.
It is a very human tendency to compare oneself to those who are better off , and then to feel bad about what we don’t have. Perhaps it is better to compare oneself to those who are less fortunate and be happy for what we do have.
Golden Ripples 