One day last week (Wednesday, if you must know) I left the hospital in somewhat less than a good mood. I'd just had another test in a seemingly endless array precipitated by the recent weight loss. There I was slightly irritated (ok, so that's not far from normal), when I made a right turn into a construction zone I hadn't previously noticed.
"Great. Frickem, frackem. I'm going to be even later. I just want to go home and take a nap. Grumble grumble whine. Effing great."
I noticed a flash of blue and yellow out of the corner of my eye. "Jeezus. Please don't be another symptom."
But, no, Mel. It's not actually all about you today.
The flash I saw was a construction worker who had dropped his equipment* and run to a woman preparing to cross the busy street. I watched as he gently tapped her on the arm and spoke to her. When she turned, I could see the long white cane in her right hand, stretching out to feel for the curb.
She answered him, tucked her hand under his arm and smiled as they crossed the street together, both chatting all the way.
I tend to be a little on the cynical side, but a lot of the time is to hide the fact that stuff like this makes me weepy. Or maybe it makes me weepy because I tend to be cynical. Either way, it was a lovely, touching thing to see and I drove home smiling, with nary a grumble.
* Please. I have no idea what it was. :-)