22-7-2008 - They're not ALL out to ruin your day...

My mood while writing this blog: side-swiped

So, to preface this, I work at the VA Hospital. I do research and don't deal w/ patients, but I do ride the elevator and walk some of the same halls. Usually they're great towards women: hold doors even when they're using a walker, press elevator buttons for you (or try...), tell you that you look nice. All the glitz and glamour of "when men were men." I always joke when the waiting rooms are full and the guys are sitting out in the hallway, "Uh oh, did you misbehave? The doctors making you sit out in the hall??" The lucid ones really get a kick out of it. And if their wives are with them, well, they usually start rattling off silly reasons Grampa got put on time-out. On particularly long elevator rides, I call out the department store floors, "All right, gentlemen, 3rd floor: housewares, hunting supplies, lingerie...audiology; 4th floor: sportswear, men's slacks, cardiology and infusion clinic." But now that love has made my belly go round, I evoke some of the same politeness, mostly stares, or people totally ignoring me.

The past couple of days, I've gotten "WOW. You've got to be close..." Which, I am, but I mean, come on! What if I wasn't? I actually had one woman in her early 50s, who I believe works here, stop MID conversation on her cell phone in the elevator and go, "Wait, hang on. Honey, when are you due?" Excuse me? EXCUSE me?? I don't know why, but I thought it was super rude. Maybe because it wasn't even a conversation starter. It felt like, "Let me intrude on you, just enough to show I'm interested, but then actually don't care because I'm going to keep having this conversation." So I just said, "soon." Got a snotty look from her. Ah well, kiss it, weirdo!

But today was great. Great. I had to grab something on campus on my way in and got off my normal bus. Then I had to catch a different bus out to the hospital complex. This elderly vet got off with me and was going to the VA. He kept up with me through the walk (which most of them can't...) and said, "Wow, you can really truck for an expectant mama! How much time until your little one arrives?" "I've got two more weeks." "Holy cow. Wow. You're REALLY moving!" "Well, I'm going to have to move as soon as he gets here, so I may as well just keep it up throughout, you know?" He tells me he has 23 grandkids. Then we start talking about big families. My dad was one of 9 and my grampa was one of 8. Then we talk about all this "stuff" people need when they have kids. I said, "All you really need is a mom who can breastfeed, someone to love her, and a box for the kid to play in." "Well, then you have to pay for college." "No, you don't. I was no strain on my parents... I paid and am still paying for my college. And think of it: back in your day, if you wanted to go to college, what did you guys do? You joined the service. You didn't ask your parents to pay; you were already adults." "Yeah, maybe that's better. I got me one son who went to 4 years of college and STILL doesn't know what he wants to do."

Then he's off to his radiology appointment and I'm waiting for the elevator. Cute. Not bad.

I get on and go up one floor, the main lobby, where we stop to let a load of vets on. There's maybe 6 of them getting on. The first one walks TWO steps in and STOPS. Puts his hands out as big as I am and starts slowly wagging his head side-to-side. "Crap," methinks. "What am I going to have to hear now??" He's short... kind of hunched over, has the thick leather skin of a UV-overexposed farmer who smokes and drinks too much, maybe saw too much action overseas. Keeps shaking his head, looking me dead in the eye. "Great," I think, "another one for the second floor." Second floor is psych intake. Then someone above reminds me to shut my mouth, even in my head. "Beautiful. You looks SO beautiful." They needed a mop to get me off of that elevator floor.