#JoyintheTimeofCorona: A True, Feel Good Story
2 years ago at Grady
Him: "Hi Dr. Manning!"
Me: “Hey there!”
Him: "I know you don't remember me. But I just want you to know that I just matched and am about to graduate from med school!”
😬
He was right. I didn’t remember.
I sifted my brain for the connection. I was pretty sure he wasn’t an Emory student.
Hmmm.
His smile was so familiar. The more he beamed in my direction, the worse I felt about not being able to place how we’d met.
Shoot.
Finally, he jogged my memory.
Here’s the backstory:
About 5 years ago, I was making rounds at Grady one afternoon. This young man was working as a 1:1 patient safety sitter and, since his patient was fast asleep, he'd brought along books to study to make the most of his time.
Yup.
I was seeing the patient in the next bed over and couldn't help but notice how fervently he was scanning the text in front of him.
Me: "Hey! What you over there studying?"
Him: "Ma'am? Oh, studying for the MCAT.”
I liked his hustle and the tenacity in his eyes.
So I told him just that. Then I extended my hand and introduced myself because I knew what it meant for him to be a black man sitting in that chair studying for a med school entry exam with a black doctor standing in front of him.
I really did.
Him: “You probably don’t remember this either but you took my picture that day.”
Me: *nervous laughter* “I . . . did?”
Him: “Yep. You said I inspired you."
Wow.
Him: “You also said you could look back at it and say you knew me back when I was just a shorty studying for the MCAT at Grady.”
Me: “That REALLY sounds like me.”
*laughter*
He smiled that easy, open smile again. And just like that, it all clicked in place.
I remembered.
Me: “I remember now.”
Him: “You do?”
Me: “I do. Like, I can see the whole thing crystal clear. You had on blue scrubs and you were next to bed 1.”
*silence*
Him: “I know it was only a few moments to you. But to me it meant a lot.”
Him: “I would always hope that a doctor would notice me studying and encourage me. Out of the 4 years I worked there, you were the only doctor who did.”
Now I wanted to cry.
See, in 2013 I was still reeling from the sudden loss of my sister. Her death amplified my desire to be present in moments—especially with people. I wrote like crazy and took photos of everything I wished to remember.
Including him.
Yes, I remembered now. In high def.