musingsonwomenshealth.com

Reflections on 40 years as a doctor in Women's Health

The outward shows be least themselves


I read somewhere that in less than a second of talking to someone you don’t know, you begin to determine their trustworthiness, and that after only a few seconds more, you have formed an opinion about them. It could be their appearance, their manner, or even their face that sways the decision; I suppose that makes sense -I am as impressionable as anybody else after I have interacted, even briefly, with a stranger. Age and experience have taught me how fraught this tendency is, but try as I might, I am occasionally swept up in mannerisms, affected by mien, deceived by choice of clothes.

I was waiting at a bus stop the other day trying to read the schedule posted on a wall outside the little shelter, when I was bumped by a very large woman. I assume it was unintended, and ordinarily I would have thought nothing of the encounter, but her momentum shoved my face right into the wall and knocked the sunglasses off my nose.

“I’m sorry, sir,” she bellowed at me in a loud voice. I have to say that the yell did seem apologetic, but there was something about the volume that put me off, and I turned to look at her as I picked up my glasses from the sidewalk. From that angle, she seemed enormous. Somewhat scruffy running shoes, followed by baggy jeans were what first confronted my eyes, and I followed them up her leg as I straightened my knees. She was wearing a huge light green tee shirt bearing an admonition to the reader: Don’t make me use my mom voice. Still, by the time my eyes had climbed up to her face, I could see she was smiling.

The journey over her body my eyes had been forced to take embarrassed me somewhat, and the only thing I could think of to put both of us at our ease was to smile and comment about the message on her shirt. “Love your tee shirt,”  I said, trying not to point, in case she would think I was simply commenting on her weight.

Her face expanded into an even broader smile. “Yah, this morning I had to tell one of my kids to behave himself; you may have noticed that even my normal voice is loud and booming, but my older daughter grabbed him by the arm. ‘Can’t you read, Jay?’ she whispered. ‘Yes,’ he whispered back, ‘But I can never tell which is her mom voice.’”

The woman seemed to think that was funny, but lowered her voice as she explained. “My body seems to amplify whatever I say -the sounds resonate in my chest or something,” she said as she indicated her girth with her chubby hands. “I don’t mean it to, but if I’m not careful it comes out sounding like a fog horn, as my daughter sometimes says.”

By the time she’d finished her explanation her voice was irritatingly loud again, and I found myself unconsciously stepping back. “See what I mean,” she boomed, and then laughed at herself. I couldn’t help admiring her acknowledgement of the problem her weight often causes; it was hard not to like her, but before we could converse further, the bus arrived.

I was ahead of her in the line, but despite my suggesting she get on first, she waved me ahead. “Age before beauty, eh?” she chuckled, and winked naughtily at me.

We both headed for some empty seats in the middle of the bus, and I sat in one while she opted for the empty two seats across the aisle from me. “I’d sit beside you,” she said, trying to get comfortable in the two seats she was occupying, “but there’s no sense in both of us being uncomfortable, eh?” She was making a brave attempt at modulating her voice, but obviously it still carried up and down the bus because heads turned as she spoke.

I smiled and nodded, happy with the seating arrangement and the fact that we could still talk to each other across the aisle. She had such a welcoming expression, and I was entranced by her charm.

As the bus pulled out, we began discussing the challenges of raising a family as a single parent. “Jay, my youngest, gets a lot of teasing at school,” she explained, trying to whisper across the aisle at me. “He’s a little… well, plump, I guess. But he’s a good-natured kid, and he gives as good as he gets, I think… Anyway, his grades are excellent, and he makes sure he plays sports along with his friends.” She sighed heavily and her tee shirt rippled with the effort. “My name’s Em, by the way,” she said, and extended her hand across the aisle for me to shake.

“Mine’s G… and no questions about what it’s short for, eh?” I said, warming to her amazing ability to connect with strangers.

There was a twinkle in her eye as she chuckled at the fact we both seemed to be using initials. “Leave mine alone too, then okay?” she said, as the chuckle grew into a full blown belly laugh.

Suddenly, there was a scream from a man at the very back of the bus, and every head turned. He was yelling into a phone, although I got the distinct impression he was simply holding it to pretend he was actually responding to something it was saying to him. “No, you stupid bastard,” he screamed. “You listen to me!!” But it still seemed to be talking to him, even though it was nowhere near his ear, and no sound that I could hear was coming from it. “You can’t say that, you stupid dick-head! You don’t know who you’re talking to!” His voice was getting even louder and more excited. “I will not take over the bus until I am ready, do you hear? Not when you are ready, not when they are ready, but Me!!!” He stared intently at the phone to see what it might say next. Everybody else turned their heads back and away, while they stared at their laps, afraid their attention, or their eyes might antagonize him; I could feel the tension rising on the bus.

Em slowly wiggled her way out of her seat, and whispered to me that she would settle him down. Then she smiled at me reassuringly, and waddled her way back to a seat at the back where she could talk to him.

At first I could hear her ‘mom’ voice when she sat down beside him, but when she’d got his attention, her voice gradually merged with the squeaking and shaking of the bus. I could see her smiling, but her voice had become a soothing spoken lullaby and after a while, he stopped screaming and put his phone in his pocket. She patted him on his shoulder and then stroked his arm as if he was a child and she was just reassuring him that he had been heard.

Once he’d settled down, she got up and squeezed back down the aisle to her seat across from me.

I looked at her with new admiration and quizzed her with my eyes.

“When you’ve raised five kids, nothing fazes you, eh?” I must have looked puzzled because she winked at me again. “You weren’t worried were you, G?”

I didn’t know how to respond. I mean, I hardly knew her, but yes, I was worried… I managed a slightly embarrassed nod of my head.

A broad smile spread across her face, as if she’d made a new friend. “Well,” she whispered with a sly look in her eyes, “I deal with this type of thing every day, G. As well as being a single mom, I’m also a psychologist at the local hospital.” Then she fixed me with a mischievous twinkle. “Oh, and did I mention I’m also a great cook…?” she added, pointing to her expansive tummy that was rippling with laughter under her expressive tee shirt. “The kids and I would love to have you and your partner over some time.”

“But… I mean you hardly know me,” I managed to sputter as I reached for the cord after glancing out the window to find that my stop was approaching.

“I’m pretty good at reading people though, wouldn’t you say?” she answered and nodded her head towards the now seemingly contented man at the back.

“But…”

She reached into her purse and handed me her card. “Just phone if you’re interested. No pressure, eh?”

I smiled at her as I got off the bus, then watched it pull away. You know, I just might take her up on her offer…

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gozzter

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