Wednesday, November 02, 2005

Falsies

Falsies can refer to many things I suppose. False eyelashes, the prosthetic boobs I used to have to wear, fingernails, I am sensing a pattern here around things that females do to make themselves feel better. Interesting. Not really what I was going for, but it's ok to learn as we go. Anyway, I am not refering to any of these things, but to people. I had an experience at Mayo yesterday, and this is what happened.

There were two woman sitting together, obviously they came together too. I had seen the one who was there for treatment before. I see a lot of repeat customers at Mayo, but this one kind of sticks out for me. She has lost her hair and wears a wig. I am a little biased because I didn't choose to wear one, but it was all I could do not to say to this lady, "Take it off, you would look so much better." But, each person is different and has different needs and we have to support each other either way. But what caught my attention about this lady was something else. In fact, it wasn't her wig, her movements, her cancer, it was the woman who came with her. This woman I'm sure was meant to be a support system for her. Someone to keep her company, drive her home when the meds kick it, maybe make things easier for her. I might just be ultra-sensitive, or maybe I had some company-envy, but I noticed something in this woman who was there to support the cancer patient.

There was a fakeness to this woman. Almost a patroinising tone. Her comments were like those a person makes in passing, maybe at a store with the clerk, or some co-workers you don't know very well. And maybe that was the case. Maybe they didn't know each other very well, but I felt bad for the lady. She talked to her "support" like they had been friends for years, and the other lady just seemed to placate her with her words. At one point I listened to her complain to the cancer patient about how tired she was, and how she had trouble sleeping and the time change was hard on her body. Hard on her body. What I wanted to say, of course was, "Hey, do you know what's hard on your body? The poison that they pump through your veins to try and kill the cancer that has tainted you. That's what hard on your body." But I didn't. I don't know why I felt the need to be this woman's voice. I was getting so frustrated, and then I took a look at this support woman. She had on the perfect clothes, pink socks that matched her little coat, not one strand of hair was out of place, her cute little purse perched on her lap, perfect make-up and so on. Then I thought, that's the problem. Here is a lady who needs to have things perfect and in order, and she is here at Mayo trying to support someone who is not. How uncomfortable that must have been for that lady. How do you try and support someone when you can't handle the illness itself?

Ok, so maybe I am reading too much into this, but what else do I have to do when I am there? I have tried to turn my life into something worth examining. It's always good to question people and their motives. I grew up with that from my mom. She would always say, "And why do you think so-and-so did that? How did it make you feel?" That is how you start teaching people to think before they act, and that is SO important. I see that with my kids, with my kids at work, and even with some adults around me. Some of them, I can tell, were never taught to think about how their words would effect someone else. And yes, sometimes things slip out, but there's a difference.

I better stop for now. It takes all sorts of people to make this world go around, but there's no rule saying we have to like all of them.

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