Sometimes you find laughter in the most unexpected places.
I had to have a diagnostic mammogram last Monday because I felt a lump in my left armpit the Friday before. The good news is that everything is okay. The bad news was that I spent the weekend terrified that it was cancer. As loyal readers may remember from my "Teddy Bears" blogs, my mother died of cancer last year, and earlier this year, I had a scare during my annual mammogram.
So, once again sad and afraid, I went to have another diagnostic mammogram at Aurora Sinai Hospital in downtown Milwaukee (the old Mount Sinai Hospital). Aurora Sinai, because it is the hospital for the downtown area, can sometimes be host to... shall we say "unusual" ...patients. I went to school at Marquette so "unusual" people who, let's say happen to be talking to themselves, don't really phase me anymore. (No disrespect intended.)
One of these unusual people was sitting in the waiting room with me. I'm going to call her "Susie," but I have no idea what her real name was. The first clue that Susie was "unusual" was the personal, wire shopping cart at her side, the contents of which was a large, battered, dirty cardboard box. The second clue was that Susie was chattering non-stop to the woman seated across from her. The third clue was that the woman didn't really appear to be listening to her and instead sat with her eyes glued to the magazine on her lap.
Although there was an empty seat next to Susie, I deliberately chose the seat that was farthest from her. I had just gotten done with the exam, and I was anxiously waiting for the preliminary results. I didn't want to speak to anyone. So, I too kept my eyes down, so that Susie wouldn't engage me.
It didn't matter to Susie; she just kept talking away. After awhile though, I began to listen. She wasn't rambling incoherently; she wasn't saying anything inappropriate or vulgar. She was just talking, albeit without much interruption, moving from one topic to the next. She was actually quite pleasant. So, without actually looking at her yet, I lifted my eyes to her shopping cart and started nodding and smiling at some of the things she said. I kept wondering what the heck was in her box, but I didn't really want to peek inside.
Then, as she continued to speak, I thought to myself that there probably weren't a lot of people that looked her in the eyes while she spoke, and I thought what a terrible thing that would be to have people "dismiss" you like that. So, I lifted my eyes further up and looked at her face.
Susie spoke about her cat, about getting lost at Mayfair Mall, about the outrageous neighbors in her apartment complex, and then she started talking about Carrie Underwood, the country singer. I listened to it all, even though I was still feeling scared.
Then, Susie started to sing her favorite Carrie Underwood song, "Jesus, Take the Wheel." These are part of the lyrics she sang:
"Jesus, take the wheel
Take it from my hands
Cause I can't do it on my own
I'm letting go"
I didn't really hear the rest of the song because after she sang that small part, I realized that there was nothing I could do about the results of the exam. The result was going to be whatever it was going to be.
After that insight, I was able to laugh at some of the funny things Susie was saying, and we had a good ol' time in that waiting room until the nurse gave me the thumbs up.
Susie reminded me that there are things that we can't control and that sometimes you just have to put it in the hands of whatever higher power you believe in and let go.
