Wisdom

                             Wisdom

Maybe a year or so ago, give or take, I was sitting in my doctor’s office chatting away with my HCP.  HCP stands for, in modern gobbly-gook insurance terms, Health Care Provider.  I’d like to call him my doctor, but to be truthful, he really isn’t.  He’s a Nurse.  He’s one of those high-powered nurses to be exact.  He’s got the letters APRN MSN CNP after his name, lots more letters than the MD hanging on the back end of a medical doctor’s moniker.  His particular letters stand for Advanced Practice Registered Nurse, Master in Science in Nursing, Certified Nurse Practitioner.  Which in actuality is a doctor, plain and simple.  But, in the world of medicine, it’s really not.  Complicated, I know.  It means, and I’m sure he would hate this appellation, ALMOST a doctor.  He can do ALMOST everything a doctor can do with some minor no-no’s, like prescribing particular high-powered drugs.  He’s “overseen” by an MD in his medical practice that can perform for him the few things he legally can’t.  At least can’t in Ohio.  I don’t believe it’s often that he had need to call on his mentor.

I call him Rick instead of Doc, a difference more in label than in definition.  It’s actually quite simple.  Rick equals Doc in our household.  The medical board of Ohio might differ with me, but I’m good with it.

Rick was a bit of a change from our previous doctor.  Hell, maybe more than a bit.  Doctor Larry was a traditionalist – coat and tie, shined shoes, polished glasses, a professional in every aspect.  Rick, however, showed up for my first appointment with him wearing his sneakers, earrings in his ears, Dockers pants and an open-collared shirt.  But the look of a true medical caregiver was immediately apparent despite the clothing and jewelry.  The outside might be a touch unconventional to my ancient eyes, but the inside was a bonafide doc.

Anyhow, Rick and I were chatting that particular day and during our conversation I noticed that he was, at times, mostly listening to me drone on and on and not offering much to the conversation.  When I questioned him, sort of indirectly about the aforementioned pause, he replied that he always made a habit of listening closely to his “older” patients and soaking up their wisdom.

And that stopped me in my tracks.

Wisdom?  Wisdom?  From yours truly?

It was a concept that I was surprised to hear attached to my name.  I, of course, have to accept that I’ve reached the grand old age of three score and ten (plus a couple more) and in some circles that can be considered “old”.  And, depending on what your definition of what “old” might be, that particular attained age might meet your qualification.

So the term old I’ll grant you.  Also accepted are: “Old enough to know better?”  Yes.  “Old as the hills?”  Yep.  “Older than dirt?”  OK.  “Old enough to get out of the rain?”  Uh-huh. 

But wise?

Had to think about that one for a while. 

So should I trust what my “doc” said about how he was listening to the wisdom of his older patients and accept that statement?  And, accepting that, how it apparently applied to me? 

And once again I thought about it. 

When examined, the dictionary has lots of definitions for the word “wisdom.”  Having experience, knowledge and good judgement.  Sagacity, intelligence, understanding, insight and perception.  Acuity, discernment, sense (both regular and common), shrewdness, acumen, judgement, foresight, prudence, circumspection, scholarship, philosophy and tons more.  I looked at those words (and, truth be told, looked up the ones that I wasn’t quite so familiar with) and thought, “Perhaps…  I know I’ve demonstrated a lot of those qualities from time to time.  Hell, maybe I AM wise!”

I smiled.  What a wise old owl I was!

And then, after further reflection, I thought about the times I was caught doing the absolute opposite of these stellar qualities!  Whoa Nelly!  I’ve done WAY more unwise stuff over the years than wise.  There’s gotta be WAY more of them, I thought.

So I’m a dumb bunny and not a wise old owl?

But, again, maybe most of those horrible opposite-from-wise behaviors I’ve so rashly demonstrated were accomplished when I was younger.  Young and foolish.  Young and dumb. 

Young and definitely unwise.

And maybe so.  Maybe most were acted upon years and years in the past and could be excused by my tender age at that time.

Maybe…

And then I thought about a slew of humdingers I had pulled at definitely more of an advanced age.  Hmmm…  Like the time I…  Well, I’m not going to go into particulars about those episodes in this blog.  Suffice it to say I’ve unquestionably pulled some idiotic, brain-dead, illegal, immoral and most definitely UNWISE shenanigans and not all that long ago.

But…  and this is a big but. 

Perhaps wisdom is not HOW bad your transgressions were in the past.  Maybe it’s how MANY of them there were.  As compared to how MANY demonstrations of true wisdom you have also done.  Maybe it’s a ratio!  Surely all of us have done unwise stuff.  Running that red light.  Continuing a habit that you KNOW is bad.  (Smoking.  Drinking to excess.  Jaywalking.)  Even just going out in the rain without an umbrella or raincoat.  Way unwise!  And of course, you always remember the bad ones and forget the oodles of wise stuff you do every day!

Yeah, that’s the ticket!  The unremembered wise stuff versus the embarrassing and humiliating unwise stuff.  There’s gotta be LOTS more of the former and maybe, just maybe, not that many of the latter ones.

So, was my “doc” himself wise in listening to my wisdom?  Is it possible he gleaned any sparks of sagacity or lightning bolts of wisdom from the tongue of this old fool?

Maybe.  Maybe not a bucketful, but a spoonful?  A thimble-full?

Maybe…

I’d like to think so.