Day seventy five of being off work

I'll start off writing about yesterday's appointment and then talk about something else.

I went to the hospital yesterday afternoon and the ultrasound department of the X-ray department was all the way down a corridor, with a waiting room round the last corner. There was no one there, so no people watching. I was still tired so I fell asleep there. This appointment was only 20 minutes late and the female Lithuanian health care assistant came and took me to the room. Again, I was asked to strip, but this time there was a piece of kitchen roll to cover my nakedness (a wonderful biblical phrase) and a curtain. She stayed behind the curtain, and even at the end she wouldn't come around until I told her I was dressed. A bit more dignity than the other day. This was a "testicular ultrasound" that lasted about 20 minutes. When the sonographer (I am learning all these new words from the NHS website) was finished, I asked him if he had found anything. He said, "Nothing sinister, but I'm not allowed to discuss it". I said, "I'll take "Nothing sinister'".

And then I had a conversation with the female Lithuanian health care assistant - that's how I discovered she is Lithuanian.

We talked for a while and I asked if we were finished. She said yes, but she just liked to talk. And I was concerned that I was talking too much!

And that brings me to my slight change of subject. A few things I have read and encountered over the last few days. I was reading Jeremy Taylor's "Rules for Holy Living and Holy Dying" - I am at the 'Holy Dying' part, and he mentioned James 4: 14, "What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes."

In the grand scheme of things that is true. I don't believe in the billions of years of atheist scientists, but I think the Bible makes a good case for the age of the earth, and in whichever timescale you prefer, we are not around for long. A mist doesn't last long. And then we vanish, and after a while people adjust to life without us and we are forgotten. I have a good understanding of what comes next - I have read a variety of apocalypses that deal with the fate of the dead and compared them to biblical apocalypses, but that's getting off the point.

Life is very brief and in that very brief time we can have many different experiences and encounters that are even briefer (more brief?).

The other thing I read and encountered recently - twice - was Walt Whitman's poem, Leaves of Grass, The particular phrase that struck me was, "I contain multitudes".

I mentioned many blogs ago about the 1,000s of people I have met in the last almost 36 years. And my Lithuanian health care assistant is the latest one. Just a brief encounter, like so many of my encounters. No exchange of names (she knew mine); no exchange of phone numbers; no "Let's talk again"; just a brief encounter in the 'mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes'. And that's it. I have had so many of those. And in a way it makes me sad. I know, when I meet these people, that I will never see them again. I find social media to be so shallow. When I set up my Facebook page (at someone else's request - someone I haven't seen since) I filled in every detail I could. If the CIA want to know anything about me, it's there. If Donald Trump wants to know whether I should be allowed back into the USA, it's all there. I am a firm believer in what Jesus said, "there is nothing concealed that will not be disclosed, or hidden that will not be made known." (Matthew 10: 26).

But the interactions and the social media relationships are so shallow and virtually (pun intended) meaningless.

I'm trying to resist Ecclesiastes at this point. For my views on that, scroll down to my 'Talks from the Greenhouse' - there's a series on the whole book.

So I came away from my encounter yesterday thinking, there's another one to add to the multitudes that I contain.

And in this life it would be impossible to get them all together for a reunion. (There was never a union - I am the common denominator).

So another day in which I may meet another one to add. I have to go to the chemist and I have the Foodbank and there is usually another sad person who turns up, at least one new one every month.

"I contain multitudes". And I'll try to contain a few more!