The Doctor-Friend
Here's the message the doctors gave your family:
"We think you should notify family members to come. Things have worsened. We suggest they get here soon."
You texted this update to me, your doctor-friend. The one who'd been talking to you all along.
Yeah.
Wait. Does that mean he's dying now? You want to know.
"Get here."
That's the code that doctors use to convey the urgency of death or dying. But it isn't really a code.
Nope.
I am honest. Yes. That is what I think it means.
As I think of it,"get here" is no code at all.
Because codes are things that one has to decipher. Being called in because "things have taken a turn for the worse" and "get here" require very little interpretation.
Especially compared to all that preceded it.
Like, the treatments and the prognosis discussions. All of it layered between different scenarios, family, and different doctors. And that? Those parts were confusing.
You wondered. Like, how bad are things anyway? Kind of bad? Really bad? On the way to bad?
Which is it?
A call to a doctor-friend sort of helped. But not really. Some of it made sense. The rest, when placed in the backdrop of love’s myopic view, does not.
But this part? It can't be misunderstood. Or confused.
"Get here. Now."
Damn.
You know. I know. Dispatching loved ones usually suggests something more than just a “rough patch.” Especially when that APB is sent with no regard for how many planes, trains, and automobiles will need to be involved.
You know. I know. But you reach out to me anyway.
Because before I was your doctor-friend, I was your regular-friend. But the lines get blurred sometimes.
Especially by me.
We'd talked several times about all of this and how things were and how things could eventually get. But all of that was totally hypothetical, really.
So you and your family got that message and headed there. Including a child who now must get that love never dies even though human bodies must. They took those planes, trains and automobiles because the code was clear and required no cracking.
"Get here. Now."
And so. Here I am. The doctor-friend. But now? The doctor is put on ice. No complex information to break down or explain.
I text you:
Me: "I can come to you. I can be with you."
You: "You are with me. You have been with me."
That was your response.
So now I'm just sitting here at home. Feeling like I should be doing something like explaining or even straightening up covers. Asking if the room is too hot or too cold or if I can get anybody something to drink. Something.
Seeing as I'm the doctor-friend and all.
Now playing on my mental iPod--my absolute favorite version of this song as sung by Donny Hathaway and Roberta Flack.
#supportisaverb #showup 👊🏾❤️