Now What Do I Do?

Do you ever get in a situation where you don’t know how to respond, or what you should do next? I’m sure everyone has a few of these situations, but I seem to have more than a few.

The most recent experience like this happened at a near-by medical office.

Even though this office is not in Vernon County, there are usually several from our area in the waiting room and conversations often pop up throughout the room. Lester and I were visiting with some of the others who were waiting to see the Doctor when a sheriff from a distant county came into the office with a prisoner. This middle-aged man was in handcuffs and wearing the striped suit with the word “Prisoner” on the back. As the two sat down near the aquarium, the conversations died down as most people were caught up in their curiosity about the situation. No one seemed to be nervous, but everyone was very aware of the new arrivals.

Gradually conversation began again about the old-time situation comedy that was being shown on the waiting room TV. I noticed that the prisoner was listening and responding with smiles and nods of his head. The sheriff was also being friendly and had mentioned something to the prisoner about the fish in the aquarium.

Since I was in the row of chairs across from the two it seemed natural for me to respond to the prisoner’s response. I smiled back a time or two but did not include him in any conversation. I had no idea why the man was a prisoner, but the sheriff was armed and the man was in handcuffs. But I didn’t think he would have been brought into our midst if he were a dangerous man.

I didn’t have to worry about my response for long because we were next on the list to be called. But I keep thinking about that prisoner. What a lonely existence it would be if no one ever talked to him except the man who was guarding him. He may have deserved whatever discomfort he felt, but I still wonder what my response should have been.

More than 40 years ago I was in another doctor’s office and didn’t know what to say. Our son, Mark was three years old and was recovering from a tonsillectomy. On this October day the waiting room above Moore’s Department Store was crowded so Mark was sitting in my lap. One of the sisters from Saint Francis Academy came in and joined those of us waiting to see either Dr. Pascoe or Dr. Pearce. At that time those nuns wore the full habit with the wimple headgear (like the flying Nun). Mark was watching the sister very closely as she found her seat across the room from us.

After she had gotten settled Mark turned to me and in a very loud voice said, “Mommy, is that a witch?” I tried to whisper in his ear to explain but it was hard for this Protestant child who had been seeing Halloween decorations everywhere to take my explanation. Meanwhile I tried to act like I didn’t know who that child was who was sitting on my lap! I could see amusement in the faces of the other patients but the sister kept her dignity and acted as if she had not heard.

I was almost sorry that Mark had recovered so quickly from his tonsillectomy. I had no idea his voice had become so strong already.