A few weeks back, I was not very well.
I won’t go into the gory details, because, you really don’t need to, or want to know. I will say this, though… it wasn’t Covid. And it probably came from a jacuzzi. Yuk.
I ended up making a couple trips to the emergency room, which was not the most fun I’ve ever had. Although, after the first visit, I did become a bit of a pro at packing.
Top tip; remember your phone charger, a range of magazines and a very large flask of decent coffee.
On one occasion, I sat there waiting and waiting, for hours and hours, watching as people came and went.
Like the bloke who’d slashed his knee playing football, and who was frankly, being a total wimp. I watched as his girlfriend’s sympathy ebbed away, along with the enormous bag of sweets they were eating.
There were people from all walks of life, with all kinds of ailments. In varying degrees of pain. Coming and going.
And stil,l I sat there.
At this point, I started to worry that I may actually have a pretty bad thing wrong with me.
And still, the people came and went.
Finally, I got the gumption to go speak to the receptionist. I didn’t want to make a fuss, but I was also wondering if I was ever going to see a doctor.
“Are you in pain?” she asked.
“Erm, no not really. I mean, it’s quite bad, but I’ll be OK.”
She told me to sit back down and wait.
I wasn’t feeling too good. But I wasn’t in pain. I mean, compared to being punched in the face, or having a baby, it wasn’t that bad.
I had a little snooze. And still, I waited.
Another hour or so passed.
When I stirred, I didn’t recognise anyone in the waiting room. Everyone else must have arrived after me.
I spoke to the receptionist. I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to be a pain. Or make a fuss. But hours and hours had passed.
“Are you in pain?” she asked me again.
“I’m sure I’ll live.” I said, putting on a brave face.
“Are you in pain?” she asked again. “You are aren’t you. Tell me you are.”
“I am, I suppose. I mean I’m sure other people are worse off than me.”
“Tell me you are in pain.”
I wondered if the receptionist was feeling OK! She was being really weird. And then it dawned on me.
“Yes. I am in pain.”
“I’ll move you to the top of the list.”
And that was it. A minute or two later I was seen.
Luckily I’m OK now and there’s nothing to worry about. Phew. But, I do think there’s a lesson in there for us shy and quiet people.
When we don’t speak up, we miss out.
Not wanting to make a fuss, or speak up, leads us to being overlooked and ignored.
I don’t like kicking up a stink. Or being noisy. Or being awkward. But, sometimes, just sometimes, we have to be a little bit bolshy.