Small Town Living

There is something really special about living in a small town.   Ours isn’t small as in the village my mom grew up in small, but the city we live near has a population of around 26,000 people.  We have easy access to most important life lines such as Starbucks and Walmart….oh yes, and current, nearly state of the art health care services. 

We are lucky to have the population that enjoys some of the larger city privileges coupled with great personal service from the people who you meet when you are enjoying, say, your annual complete physical exam.  From your physician, a man whose child perhaps is on your kid’s hockey team.  Someone whose wife is your friend, so you find yourself sitting with them at tournaments, occasionally going for lunch….you know, the type of familiarity that makes your annual exam so comfortable and relaxing.

The nurse who accompanies the doctor for said exam is also someone I know.  She lives across the field from me.  I have babysat her kids.  I have also taken care of her cat, which she delivered to my yard complete with cat house and four baby kittens.  She hasn’t come back for them yet, and that was nine years ago.  I’m glad she didn’t do that with her kids.

What follows is a completely true story.  I was in the doctor’s office for my exam that is supposed to be annual, but it never is, mostly because it usually takes me a good three years to talk myself into making the appointment.  I had been measured and weighed and looked at and was now willingly subjecting myself to the very flattering flood light which I’m sure would do a lot for my complexion if it were aimed at my face – which it’s not.  As the procedure begins the doctor reminds me to relax…oh right, I forgot to do that…and we begin.  The nurse who lives across the field from me is telling me all about the Halloween candy she bought and how I should bring my kids over between this hour and that so that we can have a visit.  I can hardly process any of the information she’s giving me because I am cold, vulnerable and trying to hold my beautiful paper dress together.  I was just about to ask her to write down anything that I needed to actually remember when the fire alarm went off in the clinic.  The fire alarm.  I never considered what I would do if caught in a fire during this particular procedure.  I bet there’s never been a fire drill to practice how swiftly a doctor can remove their paraphernalia while the patient leaps off the table and runs down the stairs to safety on the street below the clinic.  

My doctor paused for a moment, then said “I think we’ll just finish up here, I’m sure everything’s fine”.   Apparently he was right, because another nurse – one I don’t know – gave a quick micro knock and threw open the door to announce that all was well, no need to panick.  Thanks for that.  This was the door to the hallway.  It would make for a better story if someone was walking by in the hallway but obviously this was my lucky day because no one else was behind her. 

It is great to live in a place where people are caring enough to let you know that you can just relax when there’s a fire alarm.  No need to panick when you are in a vulnerable position wearing a paper dress and the building may be on fire.  Everyone will look out for you because they know you.  Everyone from the doctor to the nurse, to the news broadcasters who will have no doubt gathered outside the burning clinic to video your sorry self running away from the building in a paper dress which is on fire.  Ok, that last part didn’t happen.  Because it was my lucky day.

I truly do love the fact that we live in such a familiar community.  I have enjoyed visiting with my sister-in-law while she assisted on my ultrasound, which was being done by a man whose daughters I have taught in Sunday school.  A mom whose son plays football with mine is a lab tech and she teases me that I can’t look when they take my blood.  It’s great to have people involved in your health care who are so comfortable with you that they will come to visit and discuss scrapbooking during your mammogram. 

I am thankful that I live in such a friendly and social community.  It’s nice to know that you are surrounded by familiar faces who care about your comfort and well-being when you find yourself feeling vulnerable.



5 responses to “Small Town Living

  1. Enjoyed your small town blog!!!!

    I grew up in cities all of my life and now call the prairies home. Wouldn’t have it any other way. Have raised my boys in the prairies and have lived here for 27 years. You’ll never move me back to the “big city”.

    Peacefullnes, tranquility, friendly neighbors, you name it. The prairies is the way to live.

  2. Scarred Daughter

    So I was told to read this by my mother because it was so funny! and she couldn’t tell me what it was about because it wouldn’t be as funny. I unknowingly read it only to discover it is about her friend, my “aunty”, going to the doctor about her lady parts! Mom, there are just some things your almost adult daughter doesn’t find as humorous as you!

  3. Hey Ted and ‘scarred daughter’
    So glad you both enjoyed today’s post. Sorry that one of you were traumatized. You can take comfort in the knowledge that you too live in this same small city so you may also be lucky enough to see one or more familiar faces the next time you are in the doctor’s office. I’ll come along if you like. hahaha
    Ted I agree that small towns are fantastic for raising kids.

  4. Love small towns and the attitudes therein, Love the story and Love the writer.

  5. Thanks!! I am driving in to town this morning for a meeting and one errand. I’m happy to say it will likely take all day because I will undoubtedly run into lots of people who I know and want to visit with. As long as the tractor can get me plowed out of our yard….fingers crossed.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s