"Hi, OnCallMom"

Sunday 2nd Year:

When I was a first year medical student, Nancy (one of my bff's) and I would head almost nightly to the Georgetown Barnes and Noble. We would stake out a table, lay out our respective grad school books, and think about studying. Then we'd talk and eat scones instead. We learned quickly that we were better friends than study partners. ;) Anyhoo, one night after this routine had first started, I interrupted to say:

"Oh, it's 7:00. I have to head up Wisconsin to an AA meeting."

Before I had a chance to explain that this was a school requirement and I was merely observing, a surprised, albeit not judgmental, look crossed her face.

After I'd explained why I was going, she offered to tag along and up we went. It is sort of an awkward thing to walk into a meeting like that and say, "Hi, I'm a medical student and I'm here to observe your meeting. Please just act normal."

So I didn't.

We tucked ourselves into a back corner and tried to look inconspicuous. Nancy stepped out to the restroom and while she was gone, a middle-aged, slightly shaggy man approached me.

"Is this your first time here?"
"Yes." Not a lie.
"When I was new here, someone approached me and told me that I could conquer my alcoholism. Just them saying that was an inspiration to me and I hope I can be the same for you. I want to give you something."
"Okay." Gulp.
"Hold on."

He left the room while I contemplated the various ways this situation could unfold. I could not now see how I could possibly admit that I was a med student observer.

He came back and handed me The Big Blue AA Book.
"Here," he said, "I've inscribed it to you. If you have any more questions or want to talk, I'll be here after the meeting."
"Okay." I tried to look grateful and not terrified. He would probably have thought either was appropriate.

The meeting started. 'Was anyone new here', the group leader wanted to know? [insert many meaningful stares in my direction]. I played with the edge of my notebook and tried to look invisible. They asked again later. And again after that. Each time the silence that filled the room felt heavier. 'Poor thing,' I imagine they thought, 'she can't quite admit that she has a problem.' I worried what my blue book-giving friend would think. I hoped he didn't feel like a failure for not inciting me to stand and introduce myself.

I thought how easy it would be to stand up and say, "Hi, I'm OCM, and I'm an alcoholic." "Hi, OCM." Except that that would be a lie and I don't like to lie. Even if it makes kind, shaggy-haired men feel better. But hey, maybe I lied when I didn't make my true identity known.

When the meeting ended, we raced out of there. Why, by the way, didn't anyone offer Nancy a book or stare at her like she should stand up and introduce herself? She must have looked convincing as my support person--as the one who'd coerced me into coming.

When I got home that night, I opened up the Big Blue Book. There was a very sweet inscription from a very encouraging man. He believed in me. I wanted to read that inscription after re-telling that story recently (sorry weenston, for making you hear it twice) but then I remembered that its no longer in my possession. So sad. Once, when Chris's 'let's trim the fat' spirit rubbed off on me, I unloaded a ton of old school books to goodwill. Without realizing it, I shipped off my blue book as well. When this came to my attention, I tried to no avail to find it at the goodwill. Someone must have needed it more than I did.

But the memory of that night still makes me smile for so many reasons. Because Nancy and I know each other like sisters now and its funny to think of how it must have initially surprised her.

Because I love to think about how bad I felt about not being an alcoholic. What a disappointment!

Because its so great that there are strangers who surprise you with their generosity and goodness.

And because it reminds me that I should never clean out my bookshelves. (Just Kidding sweetie!)

I hope you all have a magnificent Sabbath!