French Fries

I started treating a patient this week that has been a patient of mine once before. One the exterior he appears gruff and crabby. Once I peeled that away, I found out he is really just a nice old man whose bark is much louder than his bite.  For some reason he thinks I am some diamond he stumbled upon. If he had his way I'd be the only one who ever treated him. It's actually a bit intimidating because he puts so much trust in me to help him get better. He is retired but works part-time at a fast food restaurant to keep himself occupied, which means he smells like french fries.  Even when he goes home to change before coming to therapy. French Fries. After he left the other day my hands smelled like french fries. 

It makes me smile thinking about it. 

There is another reason he makes me smile though, a much more meaningful reason. Several times when I first started treating him we spoke of religion. He even asked for a Book of Mormon when he was discharged, but said he had to hide it from his wife. 

The first thing he asked me this week was- 

"Are you married yet"? 

I said, "no not yet".  

To which he asked- "Are you dating anybody"? 

My honest response was- "No, but I might have my eye on someone if that makes you happy".  

He asked- "Is he Mormon, because that's all I care about for you, he has to be Mormon". 

This man then proceeded to tell me that I am at the second to last on a very long list of people he prays for. He is praying for me to find a Mormon man to marry, because I am "too nice of a girl to not get married"!  I know he is sincere and I was touched to think that for over a year this man has been praying for me. 

I agree Mr. French Fry. I agree. Thanks for your prayers! I'll take 'em. In the meantime, life is grand!

My job sure has some delightful moments!