Dear Friends and Family,
When I went to work yesterday, my longtime medical practice partner Chris Hays handed me a hatbox wrapped in Charlie Brown’s Snoopy wrapping paper and a frilly blue bow. Over the past several weeks, I’ve been spending day and night in the hospital except when in the office, and I don’t readily know one day from the next. Everything is a blur. So I quickly checked my “mental” calendar.
No, it wasn’t Christmas.
No, it wasn’t my birthday.
It wasn’t even something obscure like “Doctor’s Day.” It was simply an act of kindness. Predictably, I was speechless and could barely get my thank you out without accompanying tears.
There were two pairs of new shoes inside the box, one for me and one for Nancy—Crocs. If you’re not familiar with them, they are basically rubber clogs. Chris told me they are the “rage” and that they’re everywhere. He went on to explain that Crocs are available in seventeen different colors. For me, Chris chose sage green. To my eye, they were more like the color of garden peas. (Unfortunately, I hated peas growing up. And I still do.)
Crocs look a little like Swiss cheese except for the soles. So, my new shoes are pea green and full of holes. They are definitely not a fashion statement. On the positive side, Crocs have one extraordinary redeeming quality: they “feel” really good. The holes allow your feet to breathe. And the rubber bottoms? Those flexible, spongy soles make them exceptionally comfortable. For that reason, my pea-green, hole-filled new shoes now reside in Nancy’s hospital room closet. I haven’t given Nancy hers yet, as she declared a moratorium on presents last week because she doesn’t have the strength to respond with what she calls a “proper” thank you. But she really likes mine and was quick to observe, “Chris is a really close friend. He knows your favorite color.”
Summary: We continue to be showered with love and kindness. Yesterday, Chris Hays gave me some Crocs. I have needed a new pair of shoes and will wear them comfortably as I stand ever vigilant and watchful over Nancy.
Warmly,
Winnie