I nearly had a hissy fit as I was walking from the parking deck to my appointment this morning and I saw someone smoking a cigarette.
I really don’t care if people want to smoke (although I do get a little uncharacteristically gruff and fleet of feet when they smoke around me), but this morning the ridiculous irony of someone lighting up immediately upon exiting their car stuck a sour chord.
Oh yeah, did I tell you that the parking deck was adjacent to the Emory Winship Cancer Center?
Seriously? You’re smoking a f’ing cigarette steps away from a f’ing cancer center!!!!
Forget the fact that Emory is on the road to being a smoke-free campus, it just confounds me how some people lack a certain amount of sensitivity. It was an older individual and unfortunately, I knew it wouldn’t be a good look for a big guy like myself to confront and lay the preachy bad mouth on someone more than a few years older than me.
Just my luck they’d get frightened and go all code blue and make me late for my appointment!
It takes a lot for me to get my frilly Victoria Secrets panties tied in a knot, but this morning I came close to having a Jet Blue flight attendant style melt down.
Of course all bad thoughts and frustrations immediately went away when my Oncologist walked in the room with a big smile on his face and a report on my clean bill of health in his hand!
Back again in six months. With each passing clean chest scan, I get closer to climbing through that “it might come back” window.
As we speak, I’m celebrating another victory in my ongoing war against rogue cells and enjoying a sip or two of the grape. I’ve long since returned to my normal happy John self.
In fact, it doesn’t matter to me if smoking man is back in the parking deck, sucking on the exhaust pipe of a 76 Eldorado!