Thursday, December 12, 2013

864. NGUOUY PART 28. FOLLOW UP … I MEET DR. B

In the aftermath of Will's biopsy report, our game of twenty questions transitions into the next round of the waiting game until, finally, the day dawns when Will and I find ourselves sitting in the urologist's waiting room where Belle, Dr. B's smiling assistant, opens the door to the inner sanctum and extending a warm greeting, welcomes both of us in.

After we three indulge in several moments of small talk, which somehow ends in laughter, all around, Belle checks Will's vitals before sitting at a desk where she opens his chart and jots down a few notes.  Then, after asking Will several questions, the answers to which she records in his chart, Belle rises, tells us that the doctor will be with us, shortly, and after wishing Will well, her smile shines in my direction right before she strides purposefully toward the exam room door, which she closes gently behind her, providing us with a few minutes of privacy.

She's like a warm light, isn't she, Will?
Yes.  Each time I've had reason to call, she's gone out of her way to set my mind at ease.

While waiting, quietly, in anticipation of meeting Dr. B., my thoughts drink in the continuity of care that fills our minds with positive focus, quelling anxiety, whenever our experiences within this surgeon's office come to mind.  By now, it's approximately 4:45 PM.

Our appointment had been scheduled at 4:30 for this reason:  Will is Dr. B's last appointment, today.  It is Dr. B's custom to discuss worrisome biopsy findings with his patients at the end of the day.  In this way, the surgeon can spend as much time as necessary answering any questions, which may arise after the women, who keep his office humming, leave at the end of their work day.  Once all of our preliminary questions have been spent, Dr. B. will lock up on his own before making his way home at the end of another long, and yet, seriously rewarding day …

Within a matter of minutes, Dr. B. opens the door and at a glance, I sense the calming effect of this tall, attractive surgeon's relaxed and warmly welcoming bedside manner in that while greeting Will, the windows to Dr. B's soul convey how deeply his heart cares about my husband's well being.  Then, as Dr. B's eyes turn from Will's to meet mine, I feel a bit of anxious tension release with a sigh of instinctive relief.  And my smile can't help but respond naturally to the friendly expression on Dr. B's face as I accept his outstretched hand in my own.

And just this fast does intuition sense that while connecting with the essence of this person's presence, I begin to slide peacefully toward touching home base, where, declaring myself—safe, much of my anxiety will dissipate, naturally, into thin air … Why?  Because while in this man's presence my metronome feels instinctively balanced.  And so, before we exchange even one word, my heart, mind and gut concur that, given time, I'll trust this man to earn my most profound respect … and in retrospect, reflection suggests that once again, instinct proves itself right, bringing this insight to mind:  Inner conflict arises when two opposing instincts battle for dominance inside my mind.  And that challenge rages on until my mind brightens with insight into how to create a bridge, whereby, somehow, confusion clears and opposing needs find a way to co-exist in peace—until life offers reason for inner conflict and confusion to struggle, anew.

Thank goodness, each next chapter in my personal quest to quell anxiety and reclaim inner peace seeks insight into self awareness, which inspires my spirit to search ever more deeply within, until intuitive inspiration brightens another dark spot inside my mind.  As each dark spot brightens, the furrowed brow of my spirit lightens up by way of conjuring up sensible thoughts that offer my think tank sound reason to embrace positive focus, yet again.  And as long as my boat floats on hope, none of my fervent heartfelt goals drown in a wind swept sea, turbulent with hopelessness :)

Though generally speaking, surgeons are thought emotionally distant, that's untrue of Dr. B.  While his smile holds hand with mine, his first words of welcome into his world ease my way into a land that feels utterly foreign to me:  This must be Annie.  Please call me Jerry ...

See what I mean about my sliding safely into home?  In truth, nothing has changed, except for this:  My level of anxiety senses sound reason to slide toward the lighter end of my emotional spectrum where feelings of inner peace wait to welcome me home.  Why?  Because each time Will and I connect with Jerry, somehow my spirit embraces the strength to rise to meet each next challenge, head on.  And as Jerry begins to answer the host of questions, which over the next several months, are bound to arise, intuition suggests that fate has graced our lives by connecting us with the essence of this deeply caring man's compassionate presence …

Upon returning Jerry's smile, I hear myself ask question #1:  I've been wondering if, by any chance, you had a hand in decorating your office? …

At this Jerry looks surprised, because he has no clue that his answer will suggest, right off the bat, whether or not my instincts, concerning placing my trust in his knowledgable leadership, are on target :)

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