Thy Pages Foregone

I went to the doctor the other day.

Nothing significant, right? Except once I took my seat in the waiting area, I took a look around.

Next to me, on a small table, was a stack of magazines.

Could I really – would I dare – pick up something the last person before me touched??

I smiled out loud, if one can be said to smile out loud.

Covid, blessedly, is over, I silently said to myself.

Sure, I’ve heard rumblings and rumors about an uptick in cases, but for now, I’ll enjoy my Architectural Digest and Southern Living (though I don’t live in the South), thank you very much.

I’ve always liked being early or on time (which is actually early) for doctor appointments so I can leaf through the magazines in the waiting room.

I’ve loved magazines since I was young, starting with Highlights and all its Goofus and Gallant (Goofus scared me,  though) and going all the way up to Young Miss and Seventeen (oh how I’d love to be 17 again and what I’d tell younger self – but that’s for a different post).

Medical appointments are usually not the most fun things to go to, so in the past it was soothing to peruse the pages of lives I don’t live. Oh look, there’s a Town and Country photo spread showing the latest clothes to pack when going on a yachting excursion. Or the article in Food and Wine detailing the exact pairing one should order at a bistro that’s tucked into the hills of Tuscany.

I may be sitting here waiting for my blood work to tell me if I’m going to die but by God at least I’ll know what I should pack on my way up to Martha’s Vineyard next fall.

I lamented the loss of magazines in doctors’ offices when I was diagnosed with cancer, which was the exact weekend all hell broke loose and schools, stores, and restaurants were shut down. I went through my treatment sitting in waiting rooms without the comfort of a husband or friend. A magazine would have been a welcome distraction.

As I now looked longingly at the glossy covers, I heard my name called.

Today wouldn’t be the day I opened the magazines, but it was a comfort to know that once again, they were there.