If ever there is a reason I am NOT doing well on my 201 Challenges, yesterday was one of them! I had the complete opposite experience when I did 101, but that was then and this is now.
I have been going through some physical issues, not lethal, but not ignorable either. I got the name of a DO, Doctor of Osteopathy, in my yoga class about a week ago. I called yesterday for the second time and the doctor himself answered the phone. We made an appointment for that afternoon. I had been doing my usual computer stuff (emails, book editing, WordPress) in the morning, took a shower and headed out early for the appointment, as I wasn’t sure where the building was.
Then it happened. Something that I shouldn’t have done, that I’m mildly pissed at myself about, that was unnecessary and costly. After noticing that I had passed the building on my left, I decided (wrongly in retrospect) to make a K turn. I turned into what I thought was the driveway of a retail store to change direction. I heard a thump but thought nothing of it until a truck driver across the street started waving and yelling frantically as he emphatically pointed to my car . “What?” I mouthed, with my hands out and up by my ears. “Look,” he mouthed back. Ugh, so I put the car in park, got out, bent down and checked under the bumper of my car. “You broke something. You’re leaking oil,” he said through his open window, this time quite clearly. Shit. Oil was flowing, no – gushing, from my car at a scary rate.
Not one to be late (in this case not necessarily admirable), I parked the car in a nearby lot, leaking a trail of oil the entire time, and walked to the doctor’s office for my appointment. It was downstairs, the doctor was in a room talking to somebody, another patient was waiting to see him (he was running late) and nurses were cooking food on a hot plate, so there was the wafting smell of Indian/Asian fusion food lingering in the air. Oh and there was no receptionist with whom to check in. My critical self was screaming! My mind was certain this was a mistake, and the car was the proof’s manifestation.
He was a kind man. Tall, thin, dark. Accepting, intelligent, a listener and a communicator. He asked questions many doctors wouldn’t, and didn’t, and through his hands he was able to ascertain information (without my sharing) of instances that had occurred long ago. From a serious slip on my butt (that took me to the hospital in 2004) to the way I sit in the swivel chair at my desk now that is affecting my left hip. When I was leaving, I cared less about the smell, the wait, no receptionist. I was even significantly calmer when I went out to deal with my bleeding car.
The tow truck took forty-five minutes to arrive. I stood by my car, like a woman stands by her cheating husband, embarrassed and hopeful no one would speak to me. The driver arrived.
“How did you do it?” He asked.
“I’m not sure, I guess I went over a lip, even though I hadn’t noticed it. I’m so angry with myself – I should have just gone around the corner, but I was trying to save time.”
“Hey, it’s a beautiful day, don’t let this ruin that for you. It could have been worse and there’s a reason for everything.” I had to smile. He was right. I found a doctor I related to, no one I knew was dying, it was just a car. And believe it or not, I have kept that attitude going – even as I have no car nor have I yet heard anything from the mechanic regarding the cost of this repair (we shall see how well I do with that). I did, however, borrow my daughter’s car to attend this morning’s yoga class – which only made it that much sweeter!