OK, I refuse to get sappy

If you have been following my blog or if you know me personally, you know that the book I have been working on for six years is going to be published soon. You also know that this is all new to me and if you know me really well, you know that I have given up eating and sleeping to get this book ready for publication.

With this whole new getting-published thing, I am not sure about all of the proper protocols. At the end of the book, on that page entitled Acknowledgements, I list a lot (but unfortunately not all) of the people who have helped get this book to where it is, people who encouraged and supported me in various ways, people who helped send me on my trip to Africa. People who I believe are totally oblivious to the impact which they have on my life.

Last week, I mentioned one of those people, and I know that I did not do him justice. If you know Ron, though, you know that there are no words to describe him (I mean that in the best possible way). I am so blessed to have him in my life.

But I digress. Tonight I wanted to throw out there another one of the men in my life. He’s not just a co-worker; he is my boss, the doctor that I work for. At the end of the day, he is the one who has to be happy with my work. It helps if my patients are happy with me, too, I suppose.

Maybe I shouldn’t share the following story, but we writers have a saying. Everyone we meet is fodder for our stories and you might just end up in my next book.

Anyway, I had been driving 30 miles one way to work for twelve years, when an opening came up at the clinic here in town. I called up the manager, who I had worked for before, and asked if I could apply for the position. We set up a time for me to interview.

A few days later, I was in that manager’s office and she said she would go get the doctor so he could interview me too. He had seen my kids in the past so I already knew him, so it wasn’t really a big deal. He came in the office and asked, “Do you give shots?”

I answered that yes, I did. He said something like “good enough” and went back to work.

Some days are still like that, others not so much. But after twelve years, I'd like to hope it works.

Thanks, Russ, for everything. I wouldn’t be where I am today without you. And by the way, you haven’t brought us Lindt chocolates in a while.

Or some home-made chocolates would work too.