musingsonwomenshealth.com

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

It is not in the stars to hold our destiny, but in ourselves


I’m embarrassed to admit that with truly difficult either/or decisions, I still find myself defaulting to a coin toss. It allows me the luxury of accepting or rejecting the result. To me, that seems fair and impartial; it’s hard to attribute an agenda to the coin. And unlike even well-meaning advice from friends, it neither gains nor loses by landing the way it does; it is not insulted if my subsequent decision is at odds with whatever side it shows. I can almost hear it whispering ‘Ask me again if you want. It’s all the same to me.’ For some reason, I am reminded of the apocryphal auriga, a slave hired by the ancient Roman senate to whisper ‘Memento homo’ in the ear of a triumphant general during his parade through the Roman streets on his chariot: ‘Remember you are only a man…’

Let’s face it, just like a triumphant Roman general, I too, am prone to parading my occasional triumphs to any who happens to be around me -especially if it was something about which I had guessed correctly. I suspect that a lot of us take credit for luck. In retrospect we can often delude ourselves that we just knew what to do; the coin merely confirmed it.

But the decision we make is ultimately our own. ‘It is not in the stars to hold our destiny, but in ourselves,’ as Cassius says to Brutus in Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar. Sometimes a choice is a challenge: whether to accept a reward or receive a penalty -there are consequences of a decision. It can be hard to accept the unbiased result of a coin.

To be, or not to be, ranks rather high on the scale, I would think. Yesterday I found myself discussing just that with a friend I saw sitting by himself on a bench near the Lion’s Gate Bridge that spans the First Narrows to Vancouver’s harbour. At first I thought he might be asleep; his head was drooping over his chest and apart from the rhythmic movement of his breathing, he was completely still. It was a rather chilly autumn day and he didn’t seem dressed for the weather. I couldn’t really walk past him without making sure he was okay; he was a little too still for my liking.

Jon was not a close friend, but last week, I’d met him in a line in a coffee lineup in Starbucks; his wife had just left him, apparently. I got the impression he didn’t have many friends to talk to about it, and so I told him I’d been through the same thing and shared a table with him for a while.

It was cold down by the water, but I decided to sit on the far side of the bench to see if he still recognized me.

“What do you want, G?” he said after a few seconds. Only his lips seemed to move; his eyes remained closed and face was a granite block.

“I was out for a walk, and I noticed you sitting here in the cold, Jon…”

“I’m not cold,” he said, unable to suppress a shiver. “I’m just thinking…”

“About…?”

He either shrugged or shivered again; it was hard to tell because he lapsed in to silence. “Life,” he finally admitted in a whisper and quickly stole a glance at my face to be sure I had heard what he was saying.

“You mean without Lisa?” His wife of 10 or 15 years had left him, and although they hadn’t had any children together, her son, Arvid, had lived with them until he’d decided to move in with a friend. Jon said Lisa had only waited until her son no longer needed to live in their house because a week later, she left as well.

When I’d first met him, he’d seemed so upset I’d tried to ask him if he and Lisa had been getting along, but he’d become very angry at the question and insisted he’d never mistreated her.

That hadn’t been what I’d asked, but his vehement denial made me wonder. I’d only met him after their separation, but I could feel something simmering just under the surface.

“You just wouldn’t understand, G,” he’d said when I’d tried to encourage him to talk about it.

“And why not, Jon? I’m a good listener…”

I remember he’d sighed loudly and attempted what I think he felt was an explanation. “Lisa just flipped a coin one day, and left.” I’d stared at him with a puzzled expression. “She was like that, you know: impulsive.”

I’ve never been able to disguise my thoughts. “But why would she even need to flip a coin? There must have been something to be impulsive about…”

“Nothing! Nothing at all,” he’d shouted, then walked away from me in a huff.

But now he wasn’t going anywhere, so I sat beside him on the bench, shivering with my sudden lack of activity. I tried to disguise a sigh, but as I said, I’m not very good at subterfuge, and he suddenly stared at me.

“You don’t understand, do you?”

I attempted a smile. “I’m trying to Jon, but you won’t let me…”

He looked down at his lap as if trying to decide something. “Arvid didn’t trust me…”

I stayed silent, but I could tell by his eyes that kept dancing between me and the water, that he wanted me to ask. “Why didn’t he trust you, Jon?”

His eyes hardened briefly, then softened before they latched on to my face again. “I think it was the way I was getting along with his mother…” His eyes were pleading with me not to misunderstand. “I mean, Arvid was protective of his mom…” He took a deep breath before deciding to continue.

“Lisa and I… well we’d been sleeping separately for a while, and…”

I waited for him to continue, but I could already see the tears forming in his eyes, so I reached out and touched his arm.

He tore his arm away from my hand and wiped his eyes with the sleeve. “…And Arvid saw me downtown one day holding hands with a friend of his from work…”

“Did he think you were having an affair?”

He shrugged and then closed his eyes -against the memory, I think.

“Jon…?”

He sighed deeply and began wringing his hands; he was struggling with whether or not to confess, so I said nothing, and waited. I could tell there was something he hadn’t told me, so when he didn’t say anything more, I decided to be the friend he obviously needed. “What about counselling, Jon? If you and Lisa both love each other…?”

“We do love each other… Counselling was why she waited a week before leaving me.” He sighed again, the troubles of the world pressing down on his shoulders.

I waited for him to explain, but he looked at me with painful indecision written on his face. He shook his head and sent his eyes to perch firmly on my cheeks before they flew off to follow a tug boat motoring under the bridge. “You just wouldn’t understand, G…”

“Try me Jon.”

Another deep breath and a quick peek at my face again. “I’m… I’m gay, G… And so was Arvid’s friend; that’s how he knew…”

He stood up from the bench suddenly and stared at me. “Anyway, Lisa texted me last night, and she wants to meet somewhere tomorrow to talk.”

A smile blossomed on my face and a delighted chuckle escaped from my mouth. “That’s wonderful, Jon! I’m so glad I saw you here.”

For the first time since I’d met him, Jon smiled at me. “So am I, G, I needed to talk…” He started to walk away, but stopped and looked over his shoulder. “Aren’t you coming?”

I stood and smiled back at him. “We going for a coffee?”

He nodded. “Yup,” he said, then chuckled. “I’ll pay this time, eh…?”

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gozzter

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