It was about 10:30 tonight, when I happened to walk by my desk and notice that my mobile phone was ringing. (It was still set to “vibrate”–which is how I keep it at work; I forgot to turn the ringer back on.) I didn’t recognize the area code of the incoming call, but I decided to answer it anyway, figuring that it might be a relative or friend whom I don’t speak to often enough to recall their phone number.
As soon as I said, “hello”, a woman’s voice responded immediately without introduction, giving me a rather detailed medical update about a person who–based on her description–was in a rather precarious state. Feeling awkward, like I was intentionally prying into a stranger’s personal medical records, I interrupted as soon as I could before she could elaborate further, informing her that she had dialed the wrong number. She apologized profusely–to which I responded that there was no need to do so, and adding hastily that I hoped everything would be OK–even though I had no idea who this woman was, nor the person whose medical condition she was describing.
It struck me later how oblivious we can be to the problems of others. When we are immersed in a personal crisis of our own or of someone close to us, we are so focused on it, ourselves, and those directly involved, that it’s almost unfathomable for us to consider that the rest of the world is going about its routine as normal. Conversely, when we are going about our daily routines, we have little or no idea about how others may be suffering through their own personal crises: a loved one sick or dying…a marriage or other relationship dissolving…emotional or physical abuse…thoughts of suicide–or homicide.
Unfortunately, I think it usually takes a crisis within our more immediate sphere of concern to break us out of our self-created bubbles of isolation and remind us that we should appreciate what we have–including the moments of peace we are fortunate enough to find (which we usually take for granted). Because, as we all know, those moments of contentment are all too temporary–something we tend to forget.
Luckily for me, I was able to arrive at that same conclusion from a rather unremarkable wrong number calling my phone tonight.
Whoever that woman was, I’d like to thank her for that reminder. And I hope that she–and the person whose medical condition she was describing–are somehow able to find some semblance of peace. Soon.