Kindness begins in one's heart, and civility begins in one's home. Acting in a kind and civil manner is learned at home and appreciated at all levels, by all ages, and in all environments. Civility includes, but is not limited to medical waiting rooms where expected behavior includes patients who sit quietly, often for long periods of time, waiting their turn with the beloved doctor. Well outfitted waiting rooms provide up-to-date reading materials, magazines for various ages and interests, water or coffee, and most importantly, peace and quiet. Not all medical waiting rooms measure up.
A recent visit to a Chicagoland medical office offered it all: plush chairs, the newest home furnishing magazines, water, and the most uncivilized small person on the planet. Upon entering the office, protocol required the patient sign-in, but the small unruly person was "doing his numbers" on the sign-in sheet, not permitting anyone near the desk. Proud he was of his numbers skill, sharing his ability with all in the office and the next office as well.
The youngster's father, a thirty-something, was intrigued by his clever offspring's ability to write, and smiled quietly, saying nothing. Running in jubilation from the desk to the dad, the young'un threw off his Velcro-held shoes, almost hitting a patient sitting less patiently in a chair. Did the father stop his child? Of course not, he condoned the hopping, skipping and throwing of the shoes behavior as cute, "but something you should only do at home." Good advice to all sitting with their clothes and shoes intact, waiting, and all followed it, except the child.
Loudly proclaiming his love of an indistinguishable television character due to the young child's poor diction, the father was charmed with the child's admiration. The patients, however, were continuing to lose theirs. Every event has a final moment, a last straw, when formerly genteel and civil adults begin to act in a somewhat unkind and less-then-civil manner. The straw that broke the camel's back had been delivered. And then the dad's phone rang. Relief was on the way, we all thought, as the dad would leave the room and take the kid with him to continue his needless conversation, but that was not to be. Why would a previously unconcerned parent suddenly become the king of etiquette in a stream of mis-steps?
Dad spoke loudly into his phone, proud he had one, sharing his location, medical condition, local weather and suddenly a white coat appeared, whispered in his ear and voila! He was gone. The foyer was his new chatty location, but the uncivilized child was left behind, to jump on chairs, run in a circle, and finally pound on the glass door to be let out into the foyer. The door was opened to release the beast into the wild, with his dad. Peace arrived, albeit for a short few minutes, until dad and kid reentered. Nothing had changed except he was the next patient called to the next level of waiting rooms. Note to all: in a public location remain silent and alert, do not speak to others, do not create a scene and do not jump on the furniture, something even Tom Cruise now understands. Above all, keep all clothes intact, refrain from removing any and throwing them at unsuspecting strangers attempting to remain uninvolved. If you recognize yourself in the scenario, shame on you. It's time to act in a civil manner in all places. And take your young child with you when you step outside.
Photo attribution: somewhatfrank
In a few weeks a baby will join the family and I will take on a new role and new name, Yaya. What is a Yaya, you wonder? While there are many names for Grandmother, my son's Greek heritage suggests the name Yaya for my new role. Nana would also work, as it is easier to form the letter "N" than it is to form the "G" for Grandma. Yaya is very simple as it requires a full open mouth, with the tongue in a downward position, near the lower front teeth, assuming the baby will have lower front teeth. At some point. The baby will be able to say the word with ease. (Note: Grandma is "γιαγια", pronounced yiayia.)
