Strongly Worded

Get Well Soon

So a close friend of mine (BB) is now fine, but he just survived a serious medical emergency. Actually, said emergency occurred on Sunday night, but I just learned of it this morning (Thursday) because of a combination of a) not personally knowing the person who took him to the ER; b) the indecipherable voicemail she left on my cell phone; and c) lack of cell service at my office.

When I did put the pieces together today, and called my friend's workplace and then the hospital, and then heard his cranky-but-very-much-alive-and-well voice on the phone, I melted down. My co-worker hugged me and plied me with an overpriced latte. I slurped and sobbed not just because what had happened was so scary, but because it had happened days ago and I just found out. I had not been there for BB in any sense, and, worse: I had even been somewhat pissed at him because a) I felt a little blown off by non-materializing dinner plans; b) he didn't alert me of a major event in a mutual friend's life; c) he gave my cell to some random woman (the one who brought him to the ER and tried to summon me indecipherably); and d) he wasn't on IM last night, and he's always on IM, and I attributed his absence to promiscuous behavior, because really, in my sick and twisted mind, if he's not on IM, what (who?) could he possibly be doing?

I asked if I could do anything for BB and he said no, and he specifically told me not to cook anything. His parents are with him, and a whole slew of friends had either visited or were planning to do so. I was welcome to stop by later, he said, but he had plenty of peeps. And at this moment I began to understand that when our friends undergo crises, there are really two sets of responses. The first is all about the friend, and the second is all about ourselves. After the initial wave of concern for BB, and loving feelings inspired by his kindness, his top-notch banter, and his brilliance, I became concerned about me. I wanted to see BB and confirm for myself that he is, indeed, healthy and safe. I wanted to be counted among the People Who Care Deeply About BB. I wanted to cook him a healthy meal because cooking is a concrete way for me to show love and care, and I want BB to feel loved and cared for.

Having been hospitalized myself, I know that other people's love and care and concern can be burdensome. It can be tiring and awkward to entertain visitors when you feel (and probably look and smell) wretched, and you've got tubes sticking out of you, and are wearing a backless hospital gown that doesn't cover squat. Responding to a barrage of well-meaning medical questions also sucks. And having to politely and graciously accept sympathy, generosity, and help can also get old after a while.

Still, I dropped in on BB, who had been discharged from the hospital. He looked and sounded normal. He was watching baseball and eating unsalted cashews. His mom, two visitors, and cats were keeping him company. I felt better knowing he's OK, and in good hands.

When I asked BB if there was anything to do for him (since cooking was off-limits), he said I could write an entertaining blog entry. I wracked my brain to see if I could come up with something pithy or funny. I came up short. I hope this is better than nothing. At least for today, it seems to be all I can do.

Posted by Dori at 9:27 PM