Required Reading

Thursday, December 23, 2010

Elevator music.



On the Grady elevator yesterday:

  • A nurse was wearing a really scary Christmas sweater. She told me she was off today, but on her way to the party on her unit.  100% truth: I almost opened my mouth to ask was it an "ugly sweater" party (people do have those you know.)  It was kind of like one of those Twix commercials, though-- you know. . . the ones where somehow everything hits a pause button while you get it together. My Twix pause allowed me to recognize that this was probably a fashion forward decision on her part that had zero to do with a party theme. Yikes. (For the record--it wasn't an ugly sweater party.)

  • A woman stepped onto the elevator and started singing. Loud. Like I wasn't there.
"A child! A child! High above the trees! With a voice as big as a kite!"  

Uuuhhh. Okay.

  • A little boy gets on the elevator, looks me up and down and commences to compliment every single thing I have in his line of sight.
"I like yo' shoes."

"Thanks."

"I like yo' shirt."

"Thanks."

"I like yo' hair."

"Thanks."

"I like yo'. . . " Points at my pager. "Wha's that?"

"A pager."

"Oh. Could I have it?"

"No, sweetie, I need it."

"Oh. I like yo' belt. "

"Thanks."

"I like yo'. . . ."

  • An elderly gentleman with salt and pepper hair starkly contrasting his dark brown skin got on the elevator with me right before I left for the evening. He was absolutely "Grady elder" personified.  "Ground please," he spoke in the kind of rich and throaty tone that makes you immediately stand up taller. I obliged him and pushed 'G.' He crossed his hands in front of him, cleared his throat, and nodded. 
  • I caught him reading my badge, confirming that I was a doctor. His head made the tiniest nod when he saw it--but I caught it. For the ten flights down he stood there smiling at me. . . .in that proud granddaddy kind of way.  He didn't say a word for the entire ride, but his expression. . . .sigh.  
"You have a blessed day and a safe holiday, okay young lady?" 

"You, too, sir."

He stopped and looked at me--almost lovingly-- for just a moment. Not in a fresh way, either. Just in an inexplicably proud granddaddy way that immediately made me feel proud, too. The Grady elder turned up his collar and picked up his stride toward the door and toward his life.


I love this job.

2 comments:

"Tell me something good. . . tell me that you like it, yeah." ~ Chaka Khan