My PJs Are "In the Mail"

“Hello, Ms Diskin, I have your things boxed up and ready to send back to you,” said a familiar voice on my office voice mail. It was my pal Lindsey from Radiation Safety at Washington Hospital Center. He was just calling to check my address before dropping the box in the mail.

Just tonight I had told my friend Mary the story of my recent call to WHC to ask about my long-lost-radiated pajamas. I truly assumed that the whole pile of things that I had left behind when I bolted out of there found a home in the closest dumpster. The idea that anyone could keep up with my things for 4 months and actually mail them back to me seemed utterly impossible.

But then I thought about Lindsey, how attentive and concerned about me he had been during my brief stay there. He bought me Gummy Bears (or some equally sour candy) to make my saliva flow and camomile tea to make me sleep, I’m sure paying for them out of his own pocket. He came in on a Saturday just so I could get checked and go home. He called me at home to see if I was OK. So I guess I’m not surprised that he is sending me my pajamas.

I wonder if he ever got a copy of the letter I sent to WHC, in which he starred as one of the few heroes? I wonder if his coworker (or maybe his boss) Stan kept “A Million Little Pieces”, as I told him he could? I wonder if I will have the nerve to actually wear those PJs that I continue to make such a big deal over? Probably not. But it is reassuring to know that there are people out there like Lindsey who continue to go above and beyond the call of duty.

Lindsey, who ended his call with “May God bless.” He continues to be my hero!