I’m sitting in a Dunkin’ Donuts in downtown Charlottesville right now.
Michael is at doctor's appointment, having a couple of tests done.
I couldn’t get any internet service in the doctor’s office. I was kind of glad, though, because I don't particularly like hospitals and doctor's offices.
So, I went to the lobby. No internet there either. So, I went to my car, and fired up the 3G hot spot.
While I was working on my computer, getting things arranged for a work trip later this week to Orlando, I had the window rolled down. I was sitting in the passenger side. Which, by the way, it is a weird perspective to sit in the passenger side of your own car. My car seemed much dirtier! Eew. Note to self: Need to clean car.
Anyway, when I was sitting there, I overheard some talk radio to my right. There was a husband sitting in his car, waiting. Then, someone wheeled his wife out to the car. She had no legs. I intentionally did not stare, even though I will admit, my human nature did want to see how he got her in the car. I looked at my computer screen, working on travel arrangements and press credentials. But, out the corner of my eye, I did see him snap the armrest off of her wheelchair, and put it, the chair, and a transfer board in the trunk. “How are you feeling?” he asked her as they were driving off.
That’s love driving that car.
And I didn’t need to stare to see it.
I know this life.
The internet was still really slow, so I fired up the Starbucks app on my iPhone, and started walking. But, I felt like I was getting too far away from the hospital, so when I saw a Dunkin' Donuts, I stopped. That'll do.
This is my first time not being in there with him for any kind of doctor appointment or procedure or anything. (Well, that I have taken him to) He has gone on his own to regular doc appts. It felt a little strange about an hour ago. But right now, surrounded by the pink and orange at Dunkin’ Donuts… I have to say, is way happier than being surrounded by the sterile, painted white cinderblock walls on the 2nd floor, but feels like a dungeon at UVA Medical Center.
And you know what? I actually don’t feel guilty. Because I think if Michael knew I was here right now, with a latte', he’d smile. He is always worried about me and how I’m handling all of this medical stuff.
That may or may not be because I have cried in many a parking lot over the last two years
I think I may be onto something here.
There’s a black guy sitting across from me who is maybe 20 years old, checking me out. They always love me.
I wish my phone would ring.
I should probably set the latte’ down. My hands are shaking.
I don’t think caffeine is good for the anxiety.
Focus on orange and pink, orange and pink, and funky jazz… funky jazz… I am in a happy place.
Oh man, my heart is pounding. But this latte’ is so good!
Note: At this point, Michael called, he was all finished. All is well with the world.
We will be back again in a few weeks, or a month or so. Deep breath...