We are far enough into the season that I recognize many of the people who get on my elevator which is reserved for those who find stairs to be difficult. Those with wheelchairs or walkers are the most recognizable and I find myself wishing I could greet them by name. One man has a seat down on the ground level but he goes up to the concourse before kickoff to get some popcorn. He is usually back after half-time for a refill. I also recognize a 2 year-old little girl who is always dressed in her cheerleader outfit. But in general I see lots of gray hair. I'm not sure if there was more gray hair than usual this week since it was homecoming but one of the men quipped, "I come to a college football game and it looks like an AARP convention has broken out."
People are often surprised to see me and try to remember which store downtown used to have elevator attendants. In one sense it does seem kind of silly. Most people can push the right button and I'm not checking anyone's ticket. My supervisor says we are there to protect the elevators. However, I think the main reason is because by switching the elevators to manual we can get people in and out far more efficiently. The other two elevators in my area take people up to the premium levels so before and after the game they never stop at the concourse level while I just go back and forth between the ground floor and the concourse. After the game, we take a load of people on the 6th floor all the way to the bottom without having to stop at every other floor where people are waiting but there is no room to put them. It's all about efficiency.
One of the main reasons I like this position is because I can take a book. The gates open 2 hours before kick-off but I usually see only staff until about 45 minutes before game time. This is one of the few times during the week I can read something that isn't an assignment. During the last two games I've made significant progress on Pain: the gift nobody wants. The author, Dr. Paul Brand, tells the story of how he came to understand that almost all of the deformities that come from leprosy are because the disease destroys one's ability to feel pain. I've found it to be a fascinating story and highly recommend it. To whet your appetite here are a few quotes.
- Each of these groups of people--Londoners who suffered gladly for a cause, Indians who expected suffering and learned not to fear it, and Americans who suffered less but feared it more--helped to form my outlook on this mysterious fact of human existence. Most of us will one day face severe pain. I am convinced that the attitude we cultivate in advance may well determine how suffering will affect us when it does strike.
- We could not "save" leprosy patients. We could arrest the disease, yes, and repair some of the damage. But every leprosy patient we treated had to go back and, against overwhelming odds, attempt to build a new life. I began to see my chief contribution as one I had not studied in medical school: to join with my patients as a partner in the task of restoring dignity to a broken spirit. That is the true meaning of rehabilitation.
- And when we outfit diabetics in special footwear and teach them proper foot care, the ulcers tend not to recur. For a time the government considered issuing free shoes to needy diabetics, but, like other proposals that focus on prevention and not cure, that project never got approval. As a rule, I have found it easier in the United States to obtain good artificial limbs than good shoes.
I've thankfully never shopped for an artificial limb, but it IS very difficult to find shoes that fit.
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