November 8, 2021 ~ Monday evening
I drove up island today to have a wellness exam … you know all those women’s issues/things that you’d like to talk about, at my age, with another woman with knowledge on the subject and life experience under her (proverbial and literal) belt.
No such luck. The female doctor I scheduled with was replaced by “the new guy”. “Wasn’t I lucky?” the nurse asked me. NO – not really! I wanted a mature woman to talk to – not Doogie Howser fresh out of med school. Egad.
When I was little, we always played “nurse” and “doctor” … I was always the nurse (cuz I was a girl) and David M. (my neighbor from down the street) was always the doctor (cuz he was a boy). It was the 60s … I was young and innocent and had no idea that females could be doctors … no one told me otherwise! Anyway – we made a great medical team, David and I, doing many surgeries on stuffed animals off the fold down door of our Ford Falcon. (Why we were playing in the driveway – I have no idea!) Anyway, I wouldn’t be surprised if David M. actually became a real doctor … he was a brain in high school. And my thought today was … I’d rather have 5 yr old Doctor David chatting with me today than the one who was.
He talked to me like I was the most ancient human he’d ever encountered. He suggested I remove throw rugs from my home (trip hazards). I should have called him “Sonny” at that point. I asked him about hormones (he didn’t know what I meant) and weight (told me to stop “knocking back the desserts”) – that was the point when I wanted to smash his young stupid face. Soon after he actually patted my knee and told me, at 64, not to worry as I had “a lot of life left in me”. Somewhat like something he’d say to the tire salesman who was pushing a new set on him! WTF.
We’ll skip over the mortification of the breast and vaginal exams (with a stranger – guys/you have it SO damn easy!). He didn’t ask me about my sexual history – I’m sure the dust bunnies spoke for themselves!
Island medicine leaves much to be desired. But, after that horrible encounter, I stopped in at the local grocery store and got my Moderna booster. Woop dee doo and hooray for me! The doctor couldn’t help me much – but the grocery store sure did. Go figure!
Anyway – I digress. I was going to write about my yummy Starbucks and how almost navy/velvet the sky looked before it turned SO dark, SO early … (I can feel hibernation mode already descending upon me) and how I loved watching the lights of the jets as they circled the field doing their touch and go’s. The sheer volume of their engines practically had me driving off the road – they were so loud!
I was also thinking that I should have been a meteorologist as no one ever gets forecasts right and they still get paid, etc etc. But then I’d have had to change my name to Wanda or Stormy (as in Wanda the Weather Bunny or Stormy Weathers). I always thought my exit line would have been, “Darkness clearing by morning.” Except I’d have had to work somewhere other than in the NW where that’s not necessarily true. Today was a dry day – our first all month … and soon to be only for the next foreseeable future. So, darkness might not be clearing by morning as it’s going to be gray, gray, GRAY and wet, wet, WET!
And, all this was swirling in my head as I entered Walmart – cuz what up-island excursion is complete without going to the only chain store on the island (other than Safeway, fast food, Rite Aid, Ace and Walgreens)?
And that’s when I saw … HER.
She was the youngest of four kids tagging along with a disheveled man who was pushing/leaning on a cart. I’m not good with ages. Was he her father – but older/worn or perhaps her grandfather? He was pretty rough looking. She was the only girl in the group and she must have gotten distracted, leaned into him or stepped on his shoe or something as she was close to his hip … and that angered him. Whatever words he spat out from his moist and rubbery lips were full of ugliness and hurt and aimed right at her little face.
I was pushing my cart down the main aisle when they appeared. I heard him snarl “stupid” and “careless” … and I took the scene in as you would like coming upon a horrible accident. I didn’t want to look at them/yet I couldn’t look away.
She was a little waif of a thing … maybe 6? Maybe a bit older or younger – like I said, I’m not good with ages. She didn’t see me … but I certainly saw her. She was looking at him – the one putting holes into her soul – with her eyes … those big, beautiful, round eyes.
It all broke my heart. I thought I might throw up. I wanted to stop and tell him to be nice. That she was just a little girl. To have some patience. To treasure her because she was precious. But I didn’t. In this day, and certainly here where there are so many “off” people … I wouldn’t dare. I don’t need to be a headline on the nightly news about a woman being shot in a Walmart. I tried to justify not saying anything … it’s not like he HIT her … I was trying to convince myself. But, it wasn’t working and as I wheeled off … gutted by the pain I saw on that little face … all I wanted to do was go back and give her a hug and tell her that all would be okay. But would it? Because those eyes told a story that this was not the first time he spat at her, tore down her confidence, stomped on her happiness and innocence. How many times in her brief life had he already told her she was worthless? Stupid? Just a girl? How long ago had she started believing it? The invisible scars of verbal abuse aren’t known but by the ones carrying them in their hearts.
That young girl might not even know how wrong that man was in saying what he said … how ugly and damaging his words were. That, good or bad, words matter. This might have been just another day for her – where this was “normal”. I don’t know. I didn’t stop. I wheeled away.
But, I am haunted by the eyes of a child.