Due to my husband’s recent medical testing, I’ve put in some long hours in clinic and hospital waiting rooms. I usually spend this time on my smartphone, but lately I’ve been trying to get away from the tiny screen to take a more global view of what’s happening around me.
Truth be told, I’ve always been a people-watcher. Observing humans behaving in various settings is downright fascinating, and watching makes waiting far less tedious. When my children were young, we made a game of it, surreptitiously choosing a “subject” and guessing their occupation. That made for some highly entertaining moments as my kids shared their vivid imaginings until we all got the giggles. Luckily, not one of the “chosen” ever seemed to catch on to what was happening.
Now that I’ve rediscovered this amusement, I’ve found that observing others is not just a good way to pass the time. It’s a path to greater appreciation for those in the working world, particularly the helping professions. Case in point. Jon recently went in for some tests at Bellin in Green Bay. I plunked myself down in the best chair available in the waiting room. I was scrolling through my email when two men, whom my mother would have politely called heavy set, struck up a conversation. Fortunately, I was sitting at an angle where I could see them without drawing their attention.
One was wearing a coordinated hat and T-shirt espousing his political views. The other was dressed in camouflage, sucking on a toothpick which he alternately used to clean his fingernails. As so often happens in waiting rooms, the men bonded quickly, sharing personal information, including that were both in their 70s. They also had in common noticeable hearing loss and some serious health issues, including diabetes and coronary heart disease.
Suddenly, one pointed angrily at the television mounted on the wall. I couldn’t tell what set him off because the TV was set on mute. As he read the subtitles aloud, they both grew increasingly animated, expressing fierce disapproval of the younger generation. They’re rude, lazy, shiftless, selfish, spoiled — blah, blah, blah. Like my other wait-mates, I concentrated on my phone so they wouldn’t notice I was eavesdropping, although I doubted they cared.
What surprised me was that I found myself getting defensive. I’ve always been partial to young people, having been one myself long ago and spending my entire teaching career trying to nudge them toward self-sufficiency. Quite honestly, I still enjoy hanging out with young people. I like to say I’m 77 going on 17, a comment that always draws a chuckle.
When that subject was exhausted, they moved on to Social Security benefits, Medicare co-pays and the new cap on insulin prices. I had a number of comments to offer but thought it best to keep them to myself. My reasoning is that, when in tight quarters with strangers expressing strong opinions with which I might disagree, discretion is definitely the better part of valor. I wisely bit my tongue but couldn’t help thinking of things I would say if I could.
What I chiefly wanted to share was that we seniors might want to cut the people who are or will be providing for us in our declining years a little slack. These men would correctly point out that they paid into the system all their working lives. Due to advances in modern medicine, we have made huge strides in prevention and treatment of chronic diseases such as those these men are dealing with. This means most of us are living longer and probably get more out than we put in, even if you figure in inflation and the interest we might have earned on our forced savings investment.
I also wanted to urge them to look around at the people employed there, all working to provide the best possible care to help people like them live better longer. In my experience, these unsung heroes work faithfully to meet the mission, despite the fact that many patients make it harder for them to succeed by not taking care of themselves as they should in order to live a healthier life without needing medical intervention.
I would finish by saying I never cease to marvel at health care professionals who listen sympathetically all day long to the laments of the sick. They surely leave work mentally drained and bone-tired but must put on a happy face and head home to work a second shift caring for their families. They are often young, primarily female. Most have small children that they trust to the care of others so they can care for strangers. Am I the only one who thinks they warrant less griping and more gratitude, not to mention a generous pay raise?
Kathleen Marsh is a lifelong educator, writer, and community advocate. She has published eight books, four on the history of Townsend, where she and husband Jon are happily retired on the beautiful Townsend Flowage.
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