I’d worked at the clinic for years, and with any number of other staffers. I had trained all of them, and hadn’t found a single one with whom I could not get along.
But that was before Lee. I didn’t understand why my boss hired her, as she seemed inept at best. Despite her best intentions, she simply tried my patience.
She was tall and statuesque; pretty and sweet. She had a mild stutter, and something of a lisp, as well. She was mother to a small boy named Jared, and doted on him unmercifully. She was a Navy wife, but seemed to keep to herself. She rarely made mention of having any friends.
I began to dread going to work, as she shadowed me every day, and the questions she asked seemed inane and foolish. I have always believed there is no such thing as a stupid question… but hers certainly seemed that way.
She questioned every move I made, and every one she made as well. After weeks of answering what seemed to be endless questions, and listening during the lulls in activity, to her chatter about her Jared, I dreaded just the idea of going to work. I had always loved my job, and as I had moved up and taken on more and more responsibility, I should have loved it more.
I began to resent Lee, for making me hate my job. I didn’t see how I could continue that job, with the resentment I felt. As I got into bed at night, I would pray that when I went to work the next day, she would have quit without notice, or at least that the stupid questions and never-ending chatter would cease.
The prayers went unanswered. Lee continued to annoy and frustrate me more, instead of less. I knew I would have to quit, because the idea of going to work every day at a job in which I was miserable, was more than I could swallow. I bit my tongue, around her and hoped every day, that I would make it through that particular day without blowing up at her.
One day, when the patient load was slower than usual, I was busy in the X-ray room, using the x-ray table to cut drapes for surgical packs. Lee wandered back to see what I was doing and ask whether she could be of any help.
“No!” I said sharply. “I’d rather do this alone, if you don’t mind.”
Her face fell, but she must have half-expected the response she got, because I watched her draw a deep breath. Just as sweetly as always, she said softly, “I’m sorry… to bother you. I just… I just thought that m-maybe I could learn… how you do that, so that if, if, if you had to take time off, some, someone else would know, know how.”
“Never mind that.” I said. “I always make sure there are plenty of drapes cut, so no one will ever have to worry about doing that unless I drop dead.”
“I, I, I… hope that… doesn’t happen.” She replied, as she turned away, looking forlorn and dejected.
I knew I could have handled it better. I didn’t have to be so mean to her. Still, I told myself that nothing I’d said was out of line, and I hoped that I’d made an impact. Perhaps she would leave me alone, instead of shadowing me as she had been.
I heard the bell ring, signifying that someone had come in, and I heard the deep cough of a dog. I knew that Lee could handle checking in a patient, so I stayed where I was.
It was only about five minutes later that my boss came back. “Clear the table.” He told me. There was a patient in need of radiographs.
I cleared the table and turned on the processor, then got my lead apron and badge, as my boss came back with the Border Collie patient in his arms. I held the dog while he suited up, and together, we shot two films. He returned to the front with the dog, while I shut the door and blocked the light under the door, preparing to develop the radiographs.
After I had put the films in the developer, I sat in darkness for the required developing time. There was a ultraviolet available, but I’d always been adept at working in the dark, and preferred the quiet darkness for the few moments of peace it offered. I sat on the x-ray table and waited for the timer to ring.
I thought about Lee. I’d been praying for weeks, that she would become less worrisome. My prayers continued to go unanswered. I didn’t understand the point of most of her questions, or her imposing herself on me… and I really did not want to quit my job, but didn’t see how I could go on as I had been. There, in the dark, alone with my peace, quiet and prayers, I lifted my face toward the ceiling and spoke in a softened whisper.
“Please, please… give me whatever it takes to be able to tolerate Lee.”
All too soon, the timer rang, and I opened the door, letting in the light once again.
My boss read the x-rays, and diagnosed the Border Collie. Within minutes, the client had left the office, medication in hand. Â We had three more hours left, with no scheduled appointments.
I stood in the front office, looking at the schedule.
“Well,” I said, “It looks like I’ll be able to cut a bunch more drapes this afternoon.” I turned and headed down the hallway toward radiography, again. Then I stopped, looked behind me, and without a thought, returned, sticking my head around the corner to where Lee was sitting at the reception desk. “Come on back; I’ll show you how I do it. You’re right… someone else should know.”
Lee looked up at me and a huge smile crossed her lips. “Okay, then!”
I didn’t know what had come over me, but I smiled back. We made our way to the back, and spent the next hour together. By the time the phone rang again, Lee was a master at cutting and folding drapes, and I had invited her and her family to a cookout that weekend.
Lee and I became great friends. I even babysat for Jared on occasion, so that she and her husband could have a “date night,” and never minded her incessant chatter about him again. By the time she left the clinic, a few short months later, her husband having been transferred to another naval station, I hugged her and cried. I missed her, on the job, until the day I left it as well, years later.
I tried for a while, to tell myself that it was something about her which had changed. It wasn’t, though. I finally realized that it was me. I had admitted aloud that I was lacking in tolerance and patience. I had asked for help, not to change her, but to change myself.
I still miss my friend, having lost touch with her years ago. I still keep a picture of Jared in my wallet, to remind me of Lee and the lesson she inadvertently taught me, about patience. More than likely, he’s a grown-up now.
And so am I, thanks in part to his Mom.
