Actually it was on the way to The Good Doctor’s for yet another visit. Apparently I have the Kell antibody in my blood, which can cause hemolytic disease in a newborn similarly to Rh disease. Thus my pregnancies are deemed high risk and I go in for an ultrasound every two weeks to check the blood level of the fetus to make sure anemia is not developing. With the 3D ultrasounds, they really do have some amazing technology these days for previewing baby– The Good Doctor pointed out the fuzz of hair already growing on baby’s head.
But that is not what this post is about. I was running late and although I was close to the last appointment for the day, I did not know for sure if the doctor would be backed up. I parked my ultra-cool minivan—I don’t care what you SUV lovers say, there’s nothing wrong with the soccer mom look—and dashed across the parking lot, as much as a pregnant lady can dash, to the building. My nice boots, that actually hurt and really aren’t worth it except that I am a sucker for boots, tappity tapped across the lobby to the elevator. I could hear “her” coming behind me. I didn’t know who she was other than another patient in the building and now she was heading for the elevator too and she was at that perfect distance behind me in which I had that dreaded choice to make. Do I hold the elevator for her or just pretend to not see her and press the button because she really was just far enough away that I could reasonably be excused? I hopped into the elevator, she certainly wasn’t close enough behind me, and breathed deeply as I pressed the button to go up. But I looked up and saw her coming, our eyes meeting briefly, and I remembered a thought a dear friend had shared with me . . . “So many of our interactions with others are brief and unremembered. But for that moment you have a chance to interact with that individual, . . . to affect how they feel. Will it be for good or not?”
I pressed the hold button, waking from my brief selfish stupor, smiled, and then, like a pregnant lady under stress, still had the nerve to motion for her to come quickly. She thanked me politely and we did the typical silent elevator ride. When we arrived at our floor—the same for both of us—she told me to go ahead. No doubt due to my terrible show of hiding my impatience. I thanked her and quickly took off.
As I sat in the waiting room, staring at the photos of The Good Doctor and his family, it occurred to me that the pretty lady standing next to him had an uncanny resemblance to elevator woman. Yep, it was his wife. You can bet I was counting my blessing right then and there that I’d had that one itty bitty extra ounce of decency to hold that elevator. Ah, the fun little lessons God teaches us when he wants.
