While my doctor is writing out my prescriptions or making arrangements for future appointments, I sit perched on the exam table, dangling my legs and scrutinizing his appearance. I find comfort in the predictability of his wardrobe.
Today I looked down and saw that he was wearing a new pair of brown, lace-up shoes. They were the identical color and style as always, but looked as though they had just been lifted from the box. "Why, you're wearing new shoes, but they're just like your old ones," I blurted out as though I was talking with a six-year-old.
He explained that he's worn the same style for years. When it's time to replace them, he simply brings the box with him to the store, hands it over to the clerk and requests an identical pair.
No wonder he has time and energy to heal his patients, write thought-provoking essays and search for a cure for cancer.
(Imagine what I could accomplish if I ever found the perfect purse. My brain could move on to more lofty goals.)
No comments:
Post a Comment