Smiles in the strangest of places.

I walked into the building already annoyed that it was pissing rain outside and I hadn't had a cup of coffee, tea, or anything other than water for the past 13 hrs. In the front sliding door. Through the second set, can you believe that you still have to open this set by hand, what is this 1994? Around the elevator shaft, never take an elevator when you can take the stairs (you can't get stuck that way). Down two flights to the basement. Wonder how many times I've walked this path either healthy or feeling like death. Stay to the right, first door at the end of the hallway.

I turn the corner to find that I am not the only one that decided this was a great time for blood work. Sign in, number 4. I'm never going to get on the road at this pace. Lab tech, without even looking up, directs me to sit in the lobby until my name is called.

In the lobby, all of the other patients are sitting in chairs on opposite sides of the room from each other. Can't get too close I guess, you don't know what everyone is really here for. TV is playing a loop of some diabetes infomercial. These people look really happy to have diabetes. They act like testing their blood comes in a close second to an all expense paid trip to Spain. If it's that much fun to have a life threatening disease maybe I'm doing this healthy living thing all wrong.

The woman four chairs away from me gets called in. I swear I was there first. Some guy comes in and sits across from me with coffee and a bagel. I think food should be outlawed here. Serious harm can be done, and I'm going to be the one to make an example of if I don't get called soon.

Finally, my turn. The lab tech, of course, mispronounces my name. Good thing I answer to about 15 different annunciations of it. Annoyed, hungry, and bored I enter the lab. I get barked at to hand over my lab sheet and insurance card to be copied. I know this process all too well, they're already in my hand.

The old copier takes what seems like minutes to heat up before this process can move on. Just then I hear a voice from behind me. I realize its coming from this tiny old woman, probably about 80 years old, with a weight about the same as her age. "Don't worry, I didn't feel a thing, and she took 2 things of blood out of me." I turn around and make some comment about that being a good thing. "You look worried. If you want I can hold your hand. I remember during the war I went down to the courthouse, you know the old one downtown, with my brothers to get blood drawn for the troops. I was so scared, but the nurse there held my hand the entire time. I remember that it made me feel like I was safe."

At that point the first smile of my day came across my face. Maybe this hour hadn't been a waste. I met this wonderful woman, who without knowing me from the next, offered to help me feel safe. I think that its the best thing anyone has offered for a very long time.