Thoughts on Work
01.19.2008
I think I have made it fully clear to anyone who is in my life right now: I am in love with the group of patients that I am treating right now. I laugh at work so hard I cry, I have amazing conversations about literature & rock and roll, I throw bean bags at a giggling boy as he tries to catch them, I do plank exercises on the floor that makes my ab muscles hurt the next day, and there are always a heard of "good mornings" that start my day off just right. A few patients & therapists started a book club during lunch which has become (for some) the English class they never appreciated. (Or, in a funny way, The Finer Things Club ) I love that! We are reading The Kite Runner and I feel like I am at Northwestern all over again with reading assignments & interesting thoughts/ interpretations. (Oh how I miss those rainy, weekday afternoons where the only responsibility I had was to sit in swanky coffee shops with Marius reading White Teeth!) The best part about reading with a bunch of patients/ therapists is the enthusiasm and bubbling over of excitement about the story.
An exerpt from the Kite Runner has particularly settled into my brain. This conversation repeats over & over in my head these days. A screen or measurement I am using to assess the placement of my own heart. Taken from The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini:
He turned to me. A few sweat beads rolled from his bald head. "Would I ever lie to you, Amir agha?"
Suddenly I decided to toy with him a little. "I don't know. Would you?"
"I'd sooner eat dirt," he said with a look of indignation.
"Really? You'd do that?"
He threw me a puzzled look. "Do what?"
"Eat dirt if I told you to," I said. I knew I was being cruel, like when I'd taunt him if he didn't know some big word. . . .
"If you asked, I would," he finally said, looking right at me. I dropped my eyes. To this day, I find it hard to gaze directly at people like Hassan, people who mean every word they say.
"But I wonder," he added. "Would you ever ask me to do such a thing, Amir agha?" And just like that, he had thrown at me his own little test. If I was going to toy with him and challenge his loyalty, then he'd toy with me, test my integrity.
I wish I hadn't started this conversation. I forced a smile. "Don't be stupid, Hassan. You know I wouldn't."
Hassan returned the smile. Except his didn't look forced. "I know,"he said. And that's the thing about people who everything they say. They think everyone else does too.