What a way to spend a Monday. (Kind of like the Monday a few weeks ago when I had to report for jury duty.)
Monday Morning Blues
I was still feeling the effects of a disappointing weekend when my husband dropped me off for my scheduled MRI. There was nothing wrong. They just wanted to get a baseline image since I was at an elevated risk for cancer, the disease that took my mother. Even so, it was an MRI—not my favorite way to spend a morning.
A kind nurse, one of the kindest I’ve ever met, ushered me into a dimly lit waiting room. Two other ladies joined me as we sat in tense silence, waiting for our turn to find out what was going on in our bodies. A tear ran down the cheek of the youngest of us, and the kind nurse explained everything and reassured her, even promising to remain in the room with her.
Easing The Tension
After a few minutes of silence, the other woman, closer to my age, commented on my hair and how shiny it was. She broke the ice, and from there, the conversation started. We talked about hairstyles, colors, and what we did to our hair. The tension started to melt. Then she was called away.
I continued the conversation with the younger woman, a mom with two young children. We talked about a variety of topics while we waited for our turn to be called back. I could feel the tension release even more. We had just started to talk about the Amish country in Ohio, where she was from, when I got called back. I hated to leave. I was enjoying the conversation so much.
As I left the quiet room with the nurse, I told the young mom I hoped everything went well for her. She shared the feeling with a smile and dry eyes.
Not So Bad
Thankfully, the MRI didn’t take long, and I joined my husband in the lobby, ready for a pleasant lunch out. I noticed a younger man and assumed it was the young mom’s husband. I said a quick prayer for both of them.
My mind went back thirty years to the time I had to have a breast biopsy. It was so scary and I remember thinking that if it was cancer and I didn’t survive, my little girl wouldn’t remember me. The thought made me so sad. Thankfully, it was benign, and I knew I needed to be vigilant in my future screenings.
That led me to the Monday morning MRI. With the advancements in medicine, I found out later in the afternoon that my MRI was clear, and the worrisome spots were noted. It wasn’t like the agonizing weeks-long wait back in 1995.
A Lesson Learned
The day had started off gloomy. I was feeling so discouraged by events over the weekend. But the kindness of other women who were in the same situation as me—waiting for news, good or bad—lifted my spirits. It made me realize just how important a kind word can be.
Sometimes you need silence. Sometimes you want to be quiet in your own thoughts and prayers. But my Monday morning experience taught me to enter conversations gently when it feels right. I have thought about those two other women often this week. Perhaps God put us together for a purpose. I like to think they also have a good memory of the kind women who eased their tension and anxiety with a simple conversation in a dimly lit waiting room.
Kim Wilbanks 