I drove my mom and dad to a follow-up appointment with the surgeon last week, and as I walked from the parking garage to the office to meet them, I thought about how the ratio of happy to worried people in the hospital is probably something like 3:17. I quickly decided to be a spirit raiser during the remainder of the (approximately) four minute walk.
Me (to everyone): Good morning!
Almost Everyone (to me): Good morning.
As I walked through the passageway between the main hospital and the heart hospital, I noticed a VERY stressed out/sad woman walking toward me. In my head, I wrote her story—This lady’s husband is maybe a patient here and maybe he is having emergency heart surgery RIGHT NOW and she is maybe heading to the cafeteria for coffee before settling in for the four hour wait…
Clearly, this lady needed more than just a good morning, because it’s most definitely NOT a good morning for her. Should I ask if she’s okay? Should I offer to walk with her to the cafeteria? (See how that story I made up in my head is slowly coming true in my head?)
Me: I love your overalls!!!
Her face went from sadness to confusion as we locked eyes. She passed by me and continued to walk.
She was not wearing overalls. I have no idea why I said it. (In the numbered bag of things I think about, overalls are probably somewhere in the 580s—nowhere near my frontal lobe.) I’m telling myself it’s fine because replacing her sadness with confusion even for five seconds is something.
I’ve been knitting red birds.