Friday, August 04, 2006

Hey...you dented my passenger door with your elbow.

I'll be the first to admit it. I love my cell phone in an unnatural way.

It takes pictures, plays videos, browses the internet, has this cute little keyboard hidden inside and gets kick-ass reception in places where nobody else can make a call. It's the only phone I use, sure I have a phone line in my house for the DSL line but I never use it or give out the number. If I ever lost my cell phone, there are people I would probably never speak to again as it is the only place I store most of my phone numbers. With all of the medical crisis of late, it has been very comforting for both me and my family that it makes me always reachable. I live and die by my cell phone. Plus it sings me my favorite "They Might be Giants" song when I get a call. Swoon.

As much as I love my cell phone, I try very hard not to be "obnoxious cell phone girl". You know that girl...she's the one having clearly private conversations very loudly in the middle of the grocery store. Or she's the one who answers a call in the middle of a restaurant. Or also the person who forgets to turn off the ringer in very inappropriate places like the museum or church.

What I will admit to is...now don't judge me...I talk on the phone while I drive. Booooo, hisssss. I know, I know it's bad. I should pull over or wait until I get home, but I can't seem to help it. Driving time is such a glorious, unscheduled opportunity for me to get a hold of people that I never seem to make the time to call otherwise. Now in my defense, I do use I wireless earpiece (it's cute and techie, of course I do) and if traffic gets dodgy I hang up in a heartbeat.

All of this leads me to my drive home from work. I hit a bicycler. Actually in an "it could only happen to me" way, a biker ran into my car. Now I know what you are thinking, I was probably yakking on the phone, not paying attention and caused this little incident. Cross my heart, it wasn't my fault. I was on the phone, but it really wasn't my fault. I was stopped at a red light, waiting for things to clear so I could turn right when WHAM! My poor mom got a quick "Oh shit! someone just hit me, I have to go" click. I can only imagine what she was thinking. I quickly pulled around the corner into a driveway to make sure the guy was OK.

I was freaked out. Getting startled in your car always means something bad has happened and I was definitely startled. I got out of the car and immediately went over to ask if the guy was OK. Instantly he is on his feet yelling at me about how I need to be more carefull and muttering under his breath about those damn cell phones. I stood there for a second trying to sort out what was happening. I knew he wasn't hurt as he was standing and walking and yelling at me quite well, but hey...why was he yelling at me?! My befuddled brain tried to make sense of the situation when suddenly something clicked. I had one of those rare moments where I think I handled a difficult situation exactly right.

Despite his yelling, I stood up as tall as I could and calmly said:

Me: Hey, we both know what really just happened here so calm down. First of all, are you OK?

Him: Yes I'm OK, but FUCK! You need to pay more attention when you're driving...talking on your phone ...mutter mutter...stupid bitch...mutter mutter.

Me: Stop right there. I was stopped when you ran into my car and we both know it so you need to stop yelling at me right now. You were riding way too fast on a public sidewalk when you should have been in the bike line on the other side of the street. You darted out into the street from behind a big bush, so I can understand why you didn't see me but I know you didn't have a green light. I did nothing wrong here and you did everything wrong, so you can quit yelling at me and blaming my phone call.

Him: (much more sheepishly, but still quite defensive) Well, I'm on my way home...in a hurry...you know how it is. but still...

Me: I understand, but you have got to be more careful. I'm glad you're OK and we aren't going to worry about the little dent you put in my passenger door.

Him: Look, I don't want to argue. You're OK, I'm OK Just be more careful when you're on the phone.

Me: I want to be real clear here. This was not my fault. I wasn't even moving. You will leave here and tell this story any way you choose, but right here right now I want you to know that I am aware this was your fault. and as I look you in the eye, I can tell you know it too so drop the lecture. Save it for the version you tell your friends about the obnoxious lady who ran you down.

That was that, he rode off and I sat in my car for 10 minutes until I stopped shaking. I'm not sure why it was so important to me that he acknowledge it wasn't my fault, but I kind of think I was defending my phone. It was just doing it's job and it really wasn't our fault. My poor, defenseless phone was being attacked and it needed someone to stand up for it's honor. How twisted am I?

Oh well, my phone's singing to me so I better go.

"...make a little birdhouse in your soul...."

Wednesday, August 02, 2006

Benign

That is truly the most beautiful word ever uttered.

For those of you have been following the medical dramas that my family have been experiencing, we received a reprieve today. A wonderful, unexpected, amazing reprieve. Whatever has been growing in my aunt's lymph nodes is actually benign and totally harmless. No cancer, complete false alarm. The past few weeks of waiting were spent contemplating "how bad"...never "if". There are no words to describe how incredible this feels.

As the news sinks in, I am left wondering what lesson I was being given through this whole experience. I believe there were lessons for everyone touched and frightened by this scare, but I think mine is supposed to be perspective. I have spent most of 2006 feeling overwhelmed by all of the chaos around me. There have been a lot of things on my plate this year, but at no point has it been more than I could handle...it just felt that way sometimes. For a fleeting moment, though, I was given a taste of what "more than I could handle" really felt like. It was the most horrible, out-of-control feeling I have ever experienced and that is saying quite a lot. But it wasn't real.

Have you ever had one of those moments where you look back on your life and wish you knew then what you know now? I don't think that very often, I usually like that I was able to experience the prior moments of my life without the burden of the knowledge and experience that I carry with me today. Much of my personal growth has come from flying blind through a new experience and being forced to figure it out. I can appreciate that. This was a rare exception though. More than once over the last few weeks I have wished I could go back and not spend so much time feeling overwhelmed and stressed out by all that was happening. I had no idea then that it could be so much worse so quickly. Well I have been given my gift of a "do over".

I get to go back and know what I know now. I get to deal with the craziness and the challenges with the knowledge that I really can handle it and manage my life and it really will all work out OK. I feel like Scrooge the morning after his ghostly visitors having earned his second chance.

I have learned a little perspective and it feels amazing.