Tuesday, April 06, 2010

How To Feel ...?

Neither of us felt like going, we were having a lazy morning and enjoying it. But we'd set the Doctor's appointment several weeks ago (he is a 'researcher' doctor and is often presenting at conferences) and we did have a few things we needed to talk to him about. We parked, got the wheelchair out, and made our way into the building. His office is on the second floor so we obviously take the elevator up. There, posted to the door, was a sign indicating that the elevator was down. My temper immediately flared, along with it the 'injustice' button was pushed, the 'inaccessible' switch was flipped, the 'inconsiderate could have called' tantrum was on the tracks and heading into the station.

Joe, wanting the day to stay sunny even though he saw the clouds in my eyes, said, 'I'll go and let them know that we were here, can't get up, and have left.' I said, voice barely above a growl, 'Have the doctor come down here to me.' Joe agreed and they were notified upstairs. I was gratified to be told that the receptionist was upset, having forgotten that I was in a wheelchair and couldn't make it upstairs. 'Coulda called' - the tantrum, was pleased to have a victim without yet having exploded.

The doctor came downstairs and he indicated that we could go off into a corner, I said, calmly (calm tantrums are so much more effective) 'Well, there is one administrative thing we can talk about but there is no way I'm discussing anything personal in a hallway. The doctor, nonplussed, said, 'Of course not.' And he was off. Seconds later he was back with the building manager who had a brace of keys in his hand. We found an office that was closed for Easter Sunday, and suddenly we were in a largish waiting room. Completely private, waiting room.

The Doctor said, 'Now what's on your list.' He knows Joe and I always come with a list. It took me a second because I had to divert the train from it's present course, switch off the switches, reset the buttons, and begin. We got undivided attention, in a private setting, and after meeting with the Doctor he had to go upstairs to run off a couple of prescription refills and a test form.

It was over, the sun still shone.

Oddly I was both pleased and disappointed, I guess I was ready for a 'poor me' day ... it'll have to wait, I guess.

5 comments:

lexica510 said...

I've been noticing that feeling at times, when situations follow a trajectory like this one did. It's like a voice in my head saying "No, dammit, I am going to be in a bad mood and nobody is going to talk me out of it! I don't care that things worked out, I don't care that if I let it go I could have a good rest of the day, I am going to sit down in this mudpit of bad feelings and sulk."

I try to remind myself that I'm the one who's most hurt by that kind of counterproductive thinking. Sometimes it works. Other times I wind up soaking in my bad mood plus kicking myself because "you didn't have to feel this way, but you chose to". Argh.

Kristin said...

I'm really glad they found a way to accommodate you but it kind of sucks that they forgot to notify you.

Susan said...

When your story has a mostly happy ending, like this one, it doesn't elicit as many comments as when you make people mad. Funny, hey?

Anyway, I'm glad to hear your doctor had enough sense to come downstairs. I wonder how many would do the same? I hope your doctor was motivated by wishing to say out of one of your angry blogs! :)

Shan said...

Ha ha, Susan - well done! I've noticed that too. Happy ending - fewer comments. People love to be all het up.

Glee said...

You said Dave "I had to divert the train from it's present course, switch off the switches, reset the buttons, and begin" I know that one and it takes enormous concentration and effort to do. Exhausting and we haven't even started on the job at hand yet!!!

People wonder why we get cranky....