Millie

I have experienced many situations, and met many interesting people over the past four years.  The hospital is a huge melting pot of ethnicities and personalities.  I have seen the best and worst sides of people.  In turn, hospital staff and fellow patients have seen the best and worst sides of me.  Medical facilities are playgrounds for emotion.  One minute spirits can be high, filled with laughter and joy.  The next minute the tension can mount, and tears are being shed.  It is truly a roller-coaster of feelings and emotions.

I was waiting in the imagining prep room before my CT scan today, when a elderly man walked up to me.  He asked if he could sit next to me.  I thought it was strange because I was one of two people in a room filled with chairs.  I was curious why this man chose to sit so close to me.  Most people avoid direct contact with other patients at all costs.  It's a challenge to engage in small-talk when you are dealing with health issues.  Your body is in a state of discomfort, which makes casual conversation painful.  I am, however, an exception to that rule.  Chatting it up with strangers, or friends helps me to forget about the difficulties that come with illness.  It allows me to escape my troubles for a while.

This man sat quietly next to me for a few minutes.  I assumed he wasn't in a talking mood, so I took my phone out to check Facebook.  It was the perfect time to live vicariously through the Facebook status' of my friends.  As I was scrolling through some pictures one of my Facebook buddies posted, the man turned to me and asked: "When did you dye your hair"?  I was taken aback by his question.  How did this man, I have never met before, know that I color my hair.  I began worrying about how awful my hair must look.  My roots must be terribly grown out.  I was a frazzled mess, but I composed myself enough to answer his question.  I told him I began coloring my hair when I was in high school.  I started off with putting bright blonde highlights into my natural blonde hair.  I explained to him that I mimicked my sister after she first colored her hair.  I always looked up to her, and wanted to be just like her.  After going off to college in Michigan, and exploring my personality more I decided to completely change up my hair.  That is when I went from blonde to brunette, and I have been ever since.

The man listened intently to me blabber on about my hair.  I was surprised I even kept his attention.  He looked at me the entire time I was talking, but I could tell that he wasn't fully invested in my story.  A few minutes after I stopped talking, the man took my hand and said; "No matter what color your hair is you'll always be beautiful Millie".  Obviously my name is not Millie.  I began to understand the emptiness I saw in his eyes.  He wasn't living in the moment.  This man was lost.

I was not frightened by him taking my hand, or not being aware of his surroundings.  I knew that he wasn't going to hurt me.  He just needed someone to talk to.  He began telling me a story about a woman named Cora.  He was reminiscing about his past, but I could tell that he thought it was the present.  A few minutes into his story the receptionist came over to us.  She whispered in my ear that the man has alzheimer's disease, and that his daughter would be out to get him shortly.  I nodded and smiled at her.  I told her there was no rush.  I focused my attention again, to the man, and his story.  Approximately fifteen minutes later the man's daughter entered the waiting room after her test.  She walked right up to us.  Immediately she told her father to stop bothering me.  He told her that he was catching up with Millie, and to leave him alone.  I could tell that struck a cord with the woman.  Her eyes filled up with tears when she heard the name Millie.  It was evident that a lot of emotion was involved in this topic, so I interjected.  I stood up, gave the man a hug, and told him it was wonderful catching up.  I said that I had to go have my test done now, and I walked back to the CT scan.  The man waved goodbye with tears in his eyes, and a smile on his face.

My scan lasted about ten minutes.  To my surprise when I walked back into the waiting area, the man and his daughter were still there.  The elderly man was intensely involved in a magazine, and didn't even look up when I walked out.  The woman, on the other hand, stopped me abruptly and asked if I could talk to her in the hallway.  I was, of course, willing to talk to her.  She nodded to the receptionist, and we stepped out into the narrow hallway.  She asked if she could give me a hug, and before I could answer her arms were wrapped around me.  She thanked me profusely for talking to her father, and not ignoring him.(She had spoken to the receptionist about what went on in the waiting area while she was having her imagining test done).  She praised me for allowing her father to resurface memories of his daughter(her sister) Millie(who past away when she was about my age), and his wife Cora.  The man had not been able to find the memories of Millie, or Cora since he was diagnosed with alzheimer's two years ago.  Tears ran down her cheeks, and emotion filled her face as she expressed her gratitude toward me.  She told me that she had not seen her father this happy in years.  The moment had past, and her father was back in a confused state, but he remembered all of the joy her used to feel.  I began to cry as she spoke of his happiness.  That is a moment that I will get to cherish for the rest of my life.

People and places bring back unexpected memories without warning.  I think too many times we slough off these memories instead of embracing them.  These memories make up who we are today, and the individuals we want to become.  Retrace the footsteps of our past, but forge a new path toward the future.  The mind is something to be treasured because it can be taken away in an instant.