1/ I saw this Grady elder in the clinic one morning. He was walking through the hallway and appeared a bit lost.
Not lost in that way like where you don't completely know where you are, but more in that way where you know you're right near where you're supposed to be.
2/ Me: "Hey there. Can I help you out with something?"
He was staring at this blue index card that obviously served as his treasure map.
Him: "Look here. . . is this where the nutritionist is?"
Me: "Our dietitian is right here." *smiling* "X marks the spot."
3/ I pointed to the open door that was right behind him. He swung around, then threw back his head and laughed.
Him: "Ha! If it had'a been a snake, would-a bit me!"
He erupted into that same joyous chuckle once again.
Man. I was so glad to be there to hear it.
4/ He was a big man, both vertically and circumferentially. His creamy brown skin reminded me of sun drenched tobacco leaves with lines pressed throughout.
It appeared that years of laughter had permanently embedded an outline of glee into his aging face.
It was perfect.
5/ Me: "I think they don't start for a few more minutes, sir."
Him: "Long as I'm in the right place, I'm alright. Thanks, hear?"
Me: "You're welcome.”
I idled for a bit. He saw me still standing there and smiled again.
6/ Me: "Our dietitian team is so good."
He grabbed this midsection with both hands and shook it like a bowl of gelatin.
Him: "I sholl need it, now don't I?"
Me: "Now, see? You trying to get me to put my foot in my mouth."
*laughter*
7/ Just then, I noticed that three finger nails on his right hand were polished. Three different shades -- blue, yellow, and pink.
He caught me looking and splayed his fingers apart extending his hand in front of us both.
I gave an approving nod.
8/ Him: "How you like this handiwork my great-grandbaby put on me last night?"
Me: *smiling* "Awesome. I think it's just awesome."
Him: "I told her she gave ol' Pop-Pop a 'old-man-icure.'"
He slapped his leg with that old-man-icured hand, so tickled at himself.
I loved it.
9/ Him: "You thank they'll mind if I just sit right here and wait for ‘em to get started?"
Me: "I'm sure that's fine."
Him: "Alright then. Take care, hear?"
Me: "Will do, sir."
And just like that he was gone.
10/ I don’t know his backstory. But I do know that he was an elderly Black man in Georgia—which, by definition, meant that he’s surely seen and experienced many things.
Yup.
But the joy coming from him was real. And he shared it freely. Even when lost in a hallway at Grady.
11/ Some people ask why Iove my job so much.
This is why. The extraordinary ordinary. Old man-icures, laughter, tears, and so much more.
Me: "How're you feeling today?"
Him: "Well. I been better. That medicine y'all gave me made me run off!"
My team looked puzzled.
I did not.
Me: "Oh no! You talking 'bout the medicine we gave you for your gout flare up?"
Him: "Yeah! That one!"
2/ Him: "Shit, you coulda warned a brother."
Me: "Dang. I really should have. I'm sorry."
Him: "Yeah, if it wasn't for that bedside commode it woulda been a clean up on aisle 1!"
He laughed.
I was glad he was making light of it.
Me: "I apologize, sir. Colchicine can do that."
3/ Him: "It's cool. My knee is feeling a little bit better so that's good."
Me: "I'm glad. And again, I'm sorry for not giving the heads up."
Him: "I'm okay, doc."
I turned to my team.
Me: "'Running off' is diarrhea."
Them: "Ohhh."
Him: "Oh my bad, y'all."
1/ Her: "Why haven't you left for L.A. yet?"
Me: "Huh? Oh. Yeah. I'm pretty much almost done. It's okay."
*silence*
Her: "But, like is it?"
Me: *sighs* "Me rushing there won't change anything."
Her: "Depends on who you ask."
And after that, we both went back to charting.
2/ I was on the hospital service last April when I got the news. Dad had this sudden onset of disabling vertigo. We'd learn it was a cerebellar stroke. My sister was there in LA. At the bedside and wringing her hands as next-of-kin.
So she kept me posted.
And I kept rounding.
3/ On that first day, I walked right in and told my team.
Me: "My dad has been admitted to the hospital. It seems that he's had a cerebellar stroke."
And I said it in that "but I'm fine" voice. Because at that time that's what I was telling myself.
1/ Me: “I’m glad to see you.”
You: “You know what? I’m glad to see you, too.”
*silence*
Me: “You know how you’re loved, don’t you?”
You: *smiling gently* “I do. I think that’s what makes this so hard, you know? Can’t feel a loss like that without feeling a love like that.”
2/ We both let out big exhalations. After a few beats, you swung your head in my direction.
You: “How are you?”
Me: “Me?”
You: “Yeah. You.”
Me: “I’m fine. I just wish... um… you didn’t have to feel what you’re feeling.”
You reached out for my forearm. And then sighed again.
3/ You: “Yeah. But I’ll be okay. We were soul-connected. That will comfort me.”
I nodded. Then we sat in silence.
You: “But for real—how are you? Like with all this cool stuff you’ve been doing.”
Me: *puzzled look*
You: “It has to make you miss your dad and your sister.”
1/ I just finished this beautiful, courageous, and searing memoir “I Can’t Save You” by @CQ__MD. It was . . . in a word. . . sublime.
Whew.
And full disclosure—as his former med school advisor & friend—I love Dr. CQ.
But.
I also love books and honesty.
And he knows that.
2/ @CQ__MD will be the first to tell you that I won’t endorse anything—even a book my my beloved little bro CQ—unless I’d read it myself and believed others should, too.
And now I have.
And wholeheartedly I do.
But before you jump in—and you should—let me say this. . .
3/ There are some parts that explore depression, thoughts of suicide, and self-harm. No, not recklessly. But yes, with raw honesty. So you need to know that up front.
He does NOT play it safe around his lived experiences as a Black man in the ivory tower.
1/ I had imagined what this day would be like. Played it out in my head and saw various iterations of me exploding in celebration.
In some versions, I was doing the running man or, quite literally, running in triumphant circles, #MatchDay envelope in hand.
"Wooo hooo!"
2/ I also saw these visions of me quietly weeping, one hand extended to the heavens in gratitude. My lips quietly murmuring prayers of thanksgiving.
See, I was my ancestors' wildest dreams. And not even just my enslaved ancestors but the Jim Crow survivors who raised me, too.
3/ So, yeah. This was about to be big.
I was even on the #MatchDay party committee. And since we were broke, that meant soliciting donations from faculty & parents & anybody who felt proud enough of us to shell out a few coins.