
Who knew that getting my blood drawn would turn into 7 minutes of such a wonderful connection with the woman holding the needle!
When she first entered the room she was clearly in rush mode. Said a quick good morning, did a few administrative things then left for another 5 minutes. Came back in apologizing for taking so long and started checking which vein would be the lucky one.
Found it!
She wrapped the band around my arm and made that baby pop. As she prepared to stick me, she said, “There can be so much hate in some people.”
Now maybe you’re thinking that should have been my cue to high tail out of there and demand someone who didn’t use the word ”hate” while preparing to put a needle in my arm.
I get that, and as it turned out, totally unnecessary.
Compassion Moves Through
The tone in her voice wasn’t one of anger but one of compassion and tiredness. I have no idea what prompted this but I chose to meet her right where she was. She skillfully and gently started drawing my blood and over the next 7 minutes our conversation was DEEP. We got right down to it. Both of us on the same page believing those who spew hate are clearly hurting deeply within themselves, even if they don’t realize it.
I glanced at her name tag because I wanted, actually no, I NEEDED to know her name and I didn’t want to interrupt what she was saying in the moment to ask. When she finished speaking, I looked right into her eyes and said, “Natasha, how are you holding up during these turbulent times?”
Without a beat she met my eyes and said, “You know, Linda, I’m like a bullhorn that lost its voice.”
“WOW! Natasha, that’s such a powerful statement!
“Right? It’s deep.” she replied.
“Yes, it is, and I believe I hear you loud and clear.”
I expressed my thoughts about her statement to make sure I was understanding her correctly.
Apparently I did – “Yes, Linda, it’s exactly how I feel about what I’ve been going through, lately.”
Natasha is a Black American woman.
The Emotions After
There was so much love, connection and caring shared in our short time together, that it wasn’t until I got to my car that it finally hit me deep in my soul. That’s when the tears welled up and peacefully rolled down my cheeks. Tears of gratitude, for being shown and reminded, once again, how this world is filled with people of love, compassion and strength, in spite everything happening right now.
If I had more time with Natasha, I would have asked her if there was something specific that happened to her recently, perhaps that morning, to have her say, “There can be so much hate in some people.” to a complete stranger at 7:45 in the morning.