rachelrenovation, apologies, Jim on beach



Apology to Dr. Idiot

I’m sorry that I called you Dr. Idiot behind your back.

I was annoyed that you visited Jim every day in the hospital to offer expertise you didn’t have. And with each visit came an invoice. You were a primary care physician, not an oncologist.

I will also admit I have a thing against Hawaiian shirts and Birkenstocks on a doctor. Clearly my own issue.

But mostly I was frustrated that you pushed us to stay in the community hospital, even though we were surrounded by renowned cancer centers, because you said the treatment would be the same anywhere. Maybe the treatment would have been the same but we sort of assumed the hospital wouldn’t get diagnosis wrong.

Apology to Dr. Stiff

I’m sorry that’s your name. You must hear a lot of bad jokes.

I had so much hope when we met with you. I still have your scribbles of prognosis percentages. They were pretty high. Well, compared to the other doctors we met at other hospitals, who had normal names, like Larson and Benton, but lower prognosis percentages.

You seemed very efficient and I favor people who take care of business. But I didn’t take into account that your character was as stiff as your name, and that you cared more about the numbers than the patients behind the numbers.

I’m sorry I paged you at 5AM that morning. You were clearly annoyed to be woken up. Jim’s breathing just didn’t feel right.

Funny, when Jim collapsed and the ambulance took him to the Emergency Room, the ER doctor was also annoyed. He was wondering why Jim had been at home versus in intensive care and why his young wife was completely clueless that he was dying.

Apology to the Priest in the ER

Perhaps if you hadn’t sat down next to me and taken my hand. Or perhaps if you weren’t dressed in a black robe with that large cross hanging from your neck. You see, I didn’t know my husband was dying and then you showed up hovering at my side and it freaked me out. And I know you probably are comforting to a lot of people but to me you might have as well been death himself.

I’m sorry I recoiled when you touched me. Neither of us read the situation well.

Apology to Jim

I’m not sure where to start.

4 comments on “Apologies”

  1. Okay – I’ve loved all the entries but this one gave me chills and I need the next chapter! I felt anger, frustration and guilt. I’ve met these doctors, well not exactly, but exactly. And I’ve been the clueless one. Will you apologize to Jim and for what? I ache for your old, clueless self and your now. Thank you for your writing. Keep going please, I’m on the edge of my seat.


    1. Thank you, Rebecca. I’m sorry that we are both part of this “club.” The journey of writing this book — snippets of which I am posting on this blog — is definitely about guilt and forgiveness. I have plenty of the guilt — haven’t achieved the forgiveness yet! Hopefully by the time the book is complete… Thank you for your support.


  2. Thank you for honestly sharing these “apologies”. It brought up so many memories of Kristine and the “we can give you the same treatment here at this community hospital as they can at the sarcoma center”.

    The “what ifs” linger forever, I think. xoxo


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