BECAUSE KINDNESS MATTERS

(I am writing this as an open letter to the nurse who treated me so rudely today in my doctor’s office. She may never read it, but I need to speak it…)

Dear Nurse Nasty,
First, let me assure you, I am a human being, and I understand, as all living creatures do, the benefits of kindness. I respond to it in a positive way. It enriches me, nourishes me, and engenders in me the need to “pass it on…”
I also understand, and respond to, unkindness. I know when I’m being treated with sarcasm, disdain, and being denigrated. You asked me what the purpose of my visit was, and I responded by telling you I had some issues to discuss with my doctor. You checked your screen and then turned to me and said, “You are here for a sore hip. You are not here for anything else. You will need to make other appointments for other issues.” Then you checked my chart and said,
“It says here your back is the problem. Why are you here for your hip?”
“Because” I said, “It’s painful, and I want to know whether the pain is coming from my hip or referred from my back.”
“So,” you said unpleasantly, “You want your hip x-rayed?”
I replied, “I would leave that for the doctor to decide.”
“You’re getting a hip x-ray,” you snapped, and left the room.
Now, perhaps you were thinking, this is just some old lady who, over time, lost her marbles and is making a pain in the neck out of herself. Let me assure you I have all my marbles and I know what to do with them. I just had my third collection of poetry released in two years, my sixth book of poetry overall, as well as two textbooks, and I have a children’s book that has just been accepted by Austin Macauley Publishers, as I write this. I pay my bills, run my house, write a weekly newsletter, am writing a seventh book of poetry and updating children’s books I wrote some years ago. I read books, keep up with the news, and engage in coherent conversations with bright people. Thank you, but my marbles are right where they should be.
But, even if I was less than sharp, I deserve kindness and courtesy. Old age, getting old, being old, is the price we pay for living. It is not a disease! It is not contagious (though we are all assigned the getting old gene at birth) and it is neither ugly nor shameful. It simply is the reality of life. We are born, we grow up, we grow old, we die. All stages of life are equally beautiful, painful, meaningful, and deserving of kindness, courtesy, and respect.
I will admit it. You reduced me to tears. You intimidated me. When the doctor came in, I was reluctant to discuss my issues with him. I felt like a chastised fifth grader, found looking at her cellphone during class. I am ashamed I let your attitude and your discourtesy intimidate me. I am ashamed that I felt diminished and devalued. I am me and that is enough. It has always been enough and will, always be enough.
I do not need your approval or your judgement. What I do need, what we all need, is the generosity of spirit that allows us to interact with one another in a kind and caring way. Just the tiniest bit of concern, warmth, interest on your part, would have made me feel as if my pain mattered, I mattered.
I cannot know what weight you carried on your shoulders and in your heart this morning. But I do know, had you smiled, had you cared, had you shown an ounce of kindness, I would have returned it and perhaps both our days would have turned out better.

WORDS are with us…
…we are never alone
even when darkness tames
our need for sight we remember
that which brought the light
a touch a smile a word
that healed we remember
words

hurled that cut
besieged
until we bled and blood
congealed
fed by fury
or indifference words
took their toll
left us
bruised less
than whole

words are seeds
that flower
or may grow
in the garden of our need
like weeds

words are the metaphor
for deeds
for kindness longing hope
for dreams
you fling the words
a dart
that wounds
or settles
like a drop of rain
on desiccated soil
replenishing the heart…
- Susan A. Katz (All rights reserved)

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