Looking deep...

Pete Hamill died a few years ago. Pete who?? A quintessential New York journalist, essayist, and raconteur. Quite a character whose use of language could be captivating. I saw a newspaper eulogy of Hamill written by Gay Talese, another well-known author. Reading Talese’s deep take on Hamill was akin to a wake-up call for my own humanity.

“Hamill saw that people could be, on the surface very unattractive, or not very admirable, but that doesn’t define them. There’s something in the interior or the soul of a person, something yearning to be better. Pete Hamill yearned to know what was yearning to be better in other people.“

A lesson from Pete, for me.

I needed several months of weekly subcutaneous shots in my belly a while back. (Well, let’s be honest, in my belly fat, which fortunately, at my age, is not a far reach!) The injection generally took about five seconds - ouch - and then finis. However, the injection site quickly turned into a multi-colored Picasso-like painting, which itched madly over the next several days.

A couple of months into this weekly routine of baring my tummy, I’d received the injection only from female nurses. This time I had a male nurse, rather disheveled, probably in his 50s.  His stock-in-trade appeared to be relaxing patients in a jokey manner.

As I began to pull my shirt up for the injection (modesty seems to diminish greatly with age), he said “don’t bare too much skin because I don’t have any money on me.” Whoa! I mean, whoa! A real throwback to the days of women as prostitutes, and me, as a feminist, even before I knew the actual meaning of the word feminism. This was clearly part of his “let’s relax the patient“ schtick,  but I couldn't let his comment pass (and live with myself.) I managed to say something along the line of “our culture has changed considerably”  He got it.

 So we now have a scenario of this RN, with a long syringe, heading toward my subcutaneous belly injection. (Sounds like such fun, doesn’t it?) We've both just experienced this very strange moment and I’m tense and judging him. Heaven knows what he was thinking. HOWEVER,  at the junction of my tension and judgments (and probably holding my breath as well) he walked me through a breathing exercise while giving the injection. An incredibly relaxing breathing exercise, which left my eyes wanting to close. This particular practice considerably lessened the pain of the syringe entrance. Suddenly, I had a new tool in my self-care repertoire.

Completely-confounded-my-judgments-about-him.  My ample judgments. And called to mind the Pete Hamill description of digging-deep to find someone’s humanity. Based on this nurse’s appearance and sexist comment, I’d written him off. Big-time. In so doing, I missed an essence within him that was yearning to be better.  To top it off, the injection site didn’t achieve the usual Picasso-like color scheme this time and, for that matter, itched very little.  (No disappointment there.)

Reminder to self: for the sake of my humanity (and in the spirit of Pete Hamill) make the effort to look more deeply at my fellow humans, beyond my often-rapidly-arrived-at surface judgments. Easy? Are you kidding? No way! Hmmm… what about reframing these deep dives as prospecting for light?

❤️ I’d be very grateful if you’d consider sharing “This Being Human Thing.” Who couldn’t use more heart and humor?