Looking to the Side

My Dad taught me how to find a distant light house when at sea on dark nights. “Look” for it to the side of your gaze. Sounds weird, but it works. You can be staring right at a dim light and it isn’t there. Shift your gaze 10 degrees to the left, and pop, there it is.

My mom looks at her needs that way (-my words preceded by dash).

-Mom, do you have any pains?
No, I’m fine.
You know, I’ve kind of been wondering if my liver is stretching or something.
-Does your belly hurt?
No.
Well maybe a little.
-So, on our pain scale (1-2 tolerable, 10 excruciating) how would you rate it?
I don’t know.
-Really, Mom? Cmon, give me a number, so I know what kind of pain medicine to give you.
I told you I don’t know, Bill.
-Ok, is it a 7?
Oh, no.
-Ok, how bout 3?
Well, no, it is more than that.
-Ok. How bout a 5?
No, actually it’s a bit more.
-6?
No, more.
-How bout 7?
No, I already told you it isn’t that high.
-Ok, then it is a 6 ½. I’ll give you some Tylenol with codeine. Is that alright?
That would be fine.

Now, readers, I would ask you to be a little like my mom. Don’t just stare blindly at the fact that she is dying. Look to the side. If you talk to her or visit, make it seem spontaneous. The direct approach just makes everyone uncomfortable, and blinds the flow of information. Looking to the side opens up the channels. You can much better see the depth of things.