gratitude

A couple weeks ago, I wrote a letter to the doctor who saw me for the emergency appointment the day I lost my vision.

I realized, I never saw him again. He played this HUGE part in my life, but I only knew him for about twenty minutes.

I watched a show once about "that guy". The one who you're always like "that guy! You know, the one from the thing!". Go figure, I don't remember the title, but in it, a bunch of "those guys" are talking about what it's like to be "that guy". But they usually deliver some sort of one line, bad news type thing. "You have a couple weeks left", "They didn't make it through surgery", or "I'm afraid there has been an accident."

(I had to look it up. It's called "That Guy....Who Was In That Thing". It's about 16 different actors who are all "that guy". It follows them through their careers in trying to forge a name for themselves so that when you see them, you say "oh! It's Tom Hanks!" And not "oh! It's that guy from Sleepless in Seattle.")

Whoa. That was a tangent. I think the point I was making is that the doctor I saw, was the "that guy". I went to his office, he said "I think you're having a stroke" and then we flew off to the hospital and the whirlwind takes us to today. 

But he made a huge impact, and I never got to thank him or see him again. 

So I wrote him a letter. And because I'm a terrible paraphraser, here it is:

We’ve met before, and this is long overdue, but I wanted to reach out and thank you for the impact you’ve had on my life.

The day we met, I woke up and could only see half of everything I should have. I panicked and called the eye doctor that my mother took me to as a child. I wasn’t even a patient any longer. I called the emergency number, left a message, and got you.

When you called, we discussed what was happening, and you said I should come to your office for an exam as soon as possible. This was the Sunday before Labor Day 2017.

My husband and I came to your office, I sat in your exam chair, and you said to me “I’ve met a lot of people who say that they’re seeing something, and they aren’t, but I can tell that you are. I think you might be having a stroke.” Or something to that effect, sorry if my memory is off, a lot has happened since then.

When my husband was driving to the hospital, I was trying to come up with different ways to remember your name. I can’t quite remember what I came up with to remember it, but it stuck. And I’ve thought about that day almost every day since.

I was eventually diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis.

It has been over four years since we met, and I think a normal person would just move on and have forgotten about it, but I can’t.

You made a tremendous impact on my life that day. The kindness that you showed me, and the urgency that you took from my phone call, is something that I will never forget. 

Angela Terry