The cure for what ails you…
I’ve finished the repeat of section C…it’s hardly worth a picture because it looks, well, just like the section C from last time. And, just in case you were wondering, the dreaded double daisy motif did me in again, but this time I managed to salvage the thing without having to rip out hoards of work.
Today, I had a chance to experience the best of what knitting does for me. Knitting is all about patience and connection in my world. I love to watch how people pay attention when I pull out my knitting in public. And, when you add up the number of hours I’ve spent in doctor’s waiting rooms this year, that’s a whole lot of knitting in public.
What I have noticed is a distinct difference in my state of mind versus those of my wait-mates. We’re all stuck in those vinyl chairs together, but I seem to be having a better time that most of them. Why? Because I’m not leafing through an eight-month-old People magazine or staring holes in the carpet. I’m knitting. The only thing I’m anxious about is whether or not I’ll get through this challenging row before they call my son’s name. Perhaps more importantly, I’m often too pleasantly distracted to imagine all the horrible things they’ll tell me (or worse, do to my son) once we’re let inside.
Today, as we waited a long time in a pediatric (translation: loud) waiting room at a major Chicago hospital where my son’s specialist practices, my son actually said, “hang on, she’s finishing a row” when the nurse called for us. Even if this is a tough pattern, I was embarrassed enough to stuff the knitting in my bag mid-row, risking a major error just to save face (a major error which didn’t happen, thankfully). It was still worth it. Score one for knitting.
Inside, knitting worked another connection. My son’s specialist probably sees hundreds of patients a week, based on the crowds outside her office. Yet, she remembers us. Why? Because I’m always knitting when she comes in the exam room, and her sister knits. My son, ever the guerilla marketer, told her about my blog and pointed out the cool KnitKit I was using at the time (and still use faithfully). She thought the gadget was nifty, and I wrote down my blog address so she could get the link because her sister needed a birthday present. We made a warm connection that first visit, right there in the sterile environment of a hospital. A connection that has grown stronger with each visit. Today, she asked that when we come back for our November visit, we bring Christmas gift ideas for her sister. You can bet I will. She’s a human being to me, not just my son’s specialist. Knitting did that, and I love that about knitting.
And that, folks, is one of the very best reasons to knit not only in doctors’ waiting rooms, but everywhere.