Today I had a meeting with a client who happens to be from the local version of the place I spent last Monday in agony. A group of seven surrounded our conference room table and I was running the show. I was trying to make light chatter. I'd been prepping for this meeting in earnest before I left the office, and I felt the weight of it on me - the need to bring my A-game and push everything else to the side.
They began talking about having a full house because of the flu. One said, "We're starting to ask patients if they're lucid, and if they are, we send them home." It was a joke, of course. The kind of inappropriate joke that gets made about a serious subject to alleviate the tension.
These are not bad people; in fact, they're all quite kind people who believe in what they do. I've said the same sorts of things about my clients - without thinking, with utter flippancy. But I couldn't let it pass. I couldn't let the moment go by, couldn't think about people with the flu who get to walk out of the hospital. So I told them what happened, mostly to make it stop. But part of me, truth be told, wanted to zing them. Even though they weren't intending to be cruel or malicious, even though they were blindsided by my experience, I felt myself hurling out a little bit of my anger.
I felt contrite afterwards, wishing I'd have kept my mouth shut, not understanding my sudden need to share. Why couldn't I just keep it to myself and move on? My only excuse is that my befuddled emotions have me acting in befuddled ways. Untangling the tangled lines of anger, frustration, guilt that my life is going on, irritation at those for whom normal really means normal...inevitably, something is going to snag.
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Painful Reminders
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3 cat calls:
I think that is a completely normal reaction. Even if you know they weren't intending to be careless or hurtful, it doesn't change how you feel. And it's probably better that you stopped them then and there or it could have become a never-ending conversation about the flu, putting you into complete agony. Had they continued talking and you ended up in tears, I'm sure they would have felt much worse and much more uncomfortable.
I've done a lot of the same things the last few weeks. Innocent jokes about drugs or rehab = not funny. I feel like a bit of a jerk when I say something about Adam, because I know it puts people in an uncomfortable situation, but it somehow feels wrong not to say anything at all.
Sigh.
It's okay to feel not normal right now, and for however long it takes. I agree with m on how we appreciate your sharing your thoughts/emotions/crazy-good writing with us even in this tough time.
i like the idea of it snagging... how life snags at us sometimes or our emotions or whatever. friends and stichkits. they're fabulous things.
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