I left the house at 7:15 this morning to ferry someone near and dear to me to the hospital for follow-up x-rays.
And while you may have seen clocks on hospital walls and watches on health-care workers’ wrists, those are mere illusions, my friend. As soon as you glide through those automatic doors, time loses all meaning. An 8 a.m. appointment can mean 9:00 or 10:00 or, as it was today, 11:00.
“What does all this have to do with good deeds?” you may ask. My kind gesture today was that I endured this land that time forgot without benefit of my morning COFFEE!
(Yes, they do have something called coffee at the hospital, but 4 out of 5 doctors agree — it sucks.)
To drive my point home a little more eloquently (okay, a lot more), I leave you with this passage from Honore de Balzac’s “The Pleasures and Pains of Coffee”:
This coffee falls into your stomach, and straightway there is a general commotion. Ideas begin to move like the battalions of the Grand Army of the battlefield, and the battle takes place. Things remembered arrive at full gallop, ensuing to the wind. The light cavalry of comparisons deliver a magnificent deploying charge, the artillery of logic hurry up with their train and ammunition, the shafts of with start up like sharpshooters. Similes arise, the paper is covered with ink; for the struggle commences and is concluded with torrents of black water, just as a battle with powder.
So as you can see, some good deeds demand significant sacrifice ….