No, Really, I am Fine!
I overheard the following exchange: “Are you saying that I don’t look well?” “No, that would be rude.”
I thought to myself, they could be one of those people, you know the kind, they come right out and say it, “You look like shit.” Even if it’s true, most people do not say it, I mean a person has to look pretty bad to get real concern instead of a blunderbuss remark.
If honesty were demanded in etiquette then there would be far less smiling upon greeting others. If happiness was determined by the look on most people’s faces, then a lot of people feel shitty.
What if most people were genuinely happy and upon greeting others genuinely meant it?And, in return didn’t get the canned response, I am fine, doing well, great — thanks for asking.
The utter lack of sincerity mixed with the need for brevity.
The need for honesty and brevity is a fine line. Concerned about a minor skin issue my son is having, we took him to the doctor. We sat in the waiting room the customary amount of time if by customary, you mean beyond our scheduled appointment time.
When the nurse finally arrived, she asked 2 questions directed only at my son. Was he taking any medications, was he feeling depressed?” I stopped her and stated, “If you want to ask me if I have observed any behaviors in my son which I think you should be made aware of, then ask me.” I rattled her comfort zone, threw her off the pace. Suddenly an impersonal standardized procedure gained an unexpected personalized touch.
I don’t worship procedure, policy or position, that’s a problem for some. She started to apologize, started to say that’s procedure and I interrupted her. It wasn’t her fault it was my choice and she didn’t like it. But, the problem with our lack of communication happened earlier in our encounter when questions which should have been directed at me were directed at my son,
She asked him, “I can see you are not allergic to any medications and you haven’t received a flu shot.” I cut in, “And he will not be getting one.” If I had stayed in the waiting room, would he have received a flu shot? Those shots are handed out like candy and the odds are not looking good that guessing the next mutation is working well. Our family didn’t get sick and we didn’t get the shot either. I know some folks are better off getting the damn thing, but let’s not assume everyone needs one. Is it more about inconvenience rather a biological threat.
The nurse didn’t ask me anything. She wrapped it up and left the room. Her phony smile didn’t hide her real feelings and at the last moment, as the door closed, the bitch slammed the door. Once again we wait and my son does push-ups and paces for a customary amount of time, if by customary you mean 30 minutes or more waiting for the doc.
Seth, the doctor comes in and behaves in a manner I appreciate because he can see that my son doesn’t look depressed or unhappy. Our annual checkup takes less than 10 minutes with the doctor.
As we drive away, my son remarks, “They could have asked if I felt enthusiastic!” 13 years old and he nails it.
First Published on Cowbird 2016
