107/200 - John
I was bicycling past Bridgepoint Active Healthcare, the recently opened hospital in my neighbourhood which specializes in the treatment of complex medical conditions. (See www.bridgepointhealth.ca/aboutus) It was previously known as Riverdale Hospital and specialized in chronic care. I had my camera with me and had an eye out for potential Strangers I might meet and get to know.
It was a very bright, sunny mid-July day and the sun was at its peak. This Stranger was sitting in a wheelchair with a name tag hanging from it, in front of the modern building which (interestingly enough) stands next to the Don Jail on one side and Riverdale Park on the other. Using the weather as my point of entry, I circled back, rode up to him, and said I hoped he wasn’t getting too much sun because my brother in Chicago had just emailed me that this day of the year carried a very high UV index and caution was advised regarding exposure. He thanked me for my concern but said he seems less vulnerable to sun exposure than most people but that he always exercises caution and knows when to go in. Something about his direct, assertive response told me that he was a confident man but not closed to social contact with a stranger.
Meet John. Our handshake was the beginning of a 45 minute conversation conducted in front of the hospital with John sitting in his wheelchair on the sidewalk and me sitting on my bicycle, standing at the curb. From sun exposure, we discussed the fire which had taken place in the early hours of the day in nearby Chinatown (a fruit and vegetable store was consumed but there were no deaths).
I asked John if this was his current address “for the time-being” and gestured to the looming, modern hospital building. He said “Yes, unfortunately, but I hope to be leaving in another week or two.” He went on to explain that he’d had a hip replacement operation from which he was recovering. One thing led to another and he explained that after a lifetime of good health (he is now 60) he has been beset by some unanticipated health challenges in the last couple of years. He has had some as yet unexplained episodes of “blanking out” for long enough to collapse and one such episode saw him fall on a downtown street a couple of weeks ago, landing on the streetcar tracks. Being a stubborn person (a quality I could tell he was proud of) he returned home, only to be in so much pain the next day that he had to call for an ambulance and go to his local hospital where he was quickly diagnosed with a fractured hip which would require surgery which turned out to involve a hip replacement. We reflected on Canada’s medical system which, although it is sometimes criticized for long wait periods etc., generally provides top-notch health care, the cost of which is covered through taxes. He told the story of having been given a sedative prior to surgery and asking “Who are you?” to a 70 year-old man who had briskly entered the room. “I’m Dr. W. I’m the one who’s going to fix you. Just relax and go to sleep.” John went on to tell me “I didn’t understand most of the words those doctors used but I sure understood that and it was exactly what I wanted to hear, going into surgery!” John later learned that Dr. W. is a world leader in hip replacement surgery. “I guess I lucked out.”
A couple of themes stood out from our interesting mid-day conversation. John made an observation that my wife and I have made on numerous occasions: That often people who have the most to complain about do the least complaining (and vice-versa). He cited as an example his roommate at the hospital who has spent half of his life in hospitals “due to having been dealt a bad hand of cards.” “But in the time we’ve been roommates here, do you think he’s complained? Not once. He’s friendly and optimistic every day and very pleasant company.”
The other main theme of our conversation was work. I learned that John has always been a salesman and has spent more than 30 years selling cars – mostly high-end cars including BMW, Mercedes Benz, and Acura. His doctor discouraged him from working for health reasons two years ago and he really misses it. “I just love selling.” He said he is a “people person” and is good at reading people – understanding their needs and what makes them tick. This made him a good salesman. He share his philosophy that if you understand a customer’s needs, give them the information they need, then back off and let them make their own decision, it’s far better than to push them into buying. His belief is that a customer who feels they’ve been dealt with respectfully may tell ten friends about their experience – but a customer who is unhappy with their consumer experience will tell a hundred. We shared a laugh over the irony that he was always provided with luxury cars as a “perk” of his employment but “I never really liked to drive all that much.”
We talked about cars and were interrupted a couple of times by other hospital patients asking him for a cigarette or a light. “My only vice” he said, pointing to his cigarettes. He responded to each request with friendly generosity. At one point another patient pointed to his cigarette and John said “Sure” and gave him one. He then said “See? That’s what I was talking about. That man’s had a stroke and hasn’t spoken a word since I came here. I don’t even know if he can understand English, but he’s always friendly and greets me with a smile and a nod.”
When John asked what I was doing in retirement I told him about my photography and he said I was lucky to have such an interest. “Too many people are bored in retirement and just watch tv.” I explained the 100 Strangers project and asked if he’d like to participate and he said he’d be glad to. As mentioned, the light was strong but I thought I would experiment with backlighting and he moved his wheelchair just under the overhang of the Admitting entrance where I broke out my home-made reflector, now covered with aluminium foil. I wasn’t pleased with the results and we moved further under the overhang and stopped using the reflector which was producing an overly-bright, harsh reflected light. Next was a problem with reflections on his glasses which I proceeded to coax him to remove for a few photos. These were the most successful photos but I will include examples of the others in the comment section below.
I thanked John for an enjoyable chat and explained I had to get home and prepare to attend a friend’s wedding. I offered to drop off a print for John as a thank you and he said “Well, you know where to find me – at least for the next week or so. I spend as much time outside as I can; partly so I can smoke but also because I hate hospitals.”
Thank you John for participating in 100 Strangers. You are now Stranger #107/200 in Round 2 of my project. I hope you recover quickly and that you get your wish of having your medical problems solved and being able to return to the sales floor where you belong.
Find out more about the project and see pictures taken by other photographers in our 100 Strangers-Group at www.flickr.com/groups/100strangers/
To browse Round 1 of my 100 Strangers project click here: www.flickr.com/photos/jeffcbowen/sets/72157633145986224/
Follow-up note: Since the hospital is a short distance from my home, I pass by fairly often and continued to keep in touch with John who was usually in his wheelchair in front of the building (avoiding as much as he could of the hospital experience). I gave him his photo on one occasion which he thanked me for without opening the envelope. Late last week I stopped seeing him and assumed he had been sent home. Today I spotted him again and stopped to inquire how his recovery was going. He told me he had talked his way out of the hospital and gone home but after a couple of days of great pain and trouble coping, had talked his way back into the hospital for some more rehab. "Man, if there's one thing I HATE it's having to admit I was wrong!" he said. I replied "Yeah, it's especially hard when it's the first time." He laughed. He thinks he will be fully ready to return home in one more week and said he has resumed his hobby of driving the head floor nurse crazy any way he can. I suggested he not overdo it in case he needs a hospital stay in the future. His reply: "Oh, there's lots of hospitals in this city." I wished him well and he said "Oh, I meant to tell you... I showed the photo to my mother and she said 'Who took this? They managed to make you look half intelligent.' We shared a laugh and he said "That's the nicest thing she's said to me in years. Thank you!" It appears the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. Get well, John.
107/200 - John
I was bicycling past Bridgepoint Active Healthcare, the recently opened hospital in my neighbourhood which specializes in the treatment of complex medical conditions. (See www.bridgepointhealth.ca/aboutus) It was previously known as Riverdale Hospital and specialized in chronic care. I had my camera with me and had an eye out for potential Strangers I might meet and get to know.
It was a very bright, sunny mid-July day and the sun was at its peak. This Stranger was sitting in a wheelchair with a name tag hanging from it, in front of the modern building which (interestingly enough) stands next to the Don Jail on one side and Riverdale Park on the other. Using the weather as my point of entry, I circled back, rode up to him, and said I hoped he wasn’t getting too much sun because my brother in Chicago had just emailed me that this day of the year carried a very high UV index and caution was advised regarding exposure. He thanked me for my concern but said he seems less vulnerable to sun exposure than most people but that he always exercises caution and knows when to go in. Something about his direct, assertive response told me that he was a confident man but not closed to social contact with a stranger.
Meet John. Our handshake was the beginning of a 45 minute conversation conducted in front of the hospital with John sitting in his wheelchair on the sidewalk and me sitting on my bicycle, standing at the curb. From sun exposure, we discussed the fire which had taken place in the early hours of the day in nearby Chinatown (a fruit and vegetable store was consumed but there were no deaths).
I asked John if this was his current address “for the time-being” and gestured to the looming, modern hospital building. He said “Yes, unfortunately, but I hope to be leaving in another week or two.” He went on to explain that he’d had a hip replacement operation from which he was recovering. One thing led to another and he explained that after a lifetime of good health (he is now 60) he has been beset by some unanticipated health challenges in the last couple of years. He has had some as yet unexplained episodes of “blanking out” for long enough to collapse and one such episode saw him fall on a downtown street a couple of weeks ago, landing on the streetcar tracks. Being a stubborn person (a quality I could tell he was proud of) he returned home, only to be in so much pain the next day that he had to call for an ambulance and go to his local hospital where he was quickly diagnosed with a fractured hip which would require surgery which turned out to involve a hip replacement. We reflected on Canada’s medical system which, although it is sometimes criticized for long wait periods etc., generally provides top-notch health care, the cost of which is covered through taxes. He told the story of having been given a sedative prior to surgery and asking “Who are you?” to a 70 year-old man who had briskly entered the room. “I’m Dr. W. I’m the one who’s going to fix you. Just relax and go to sleep.” John went on to tell me “I didn’t understand most of the words those doctors used but I sure understood that and it was exactly what I wanted to hear, going into surgery!” John later learned that Dr. W. is a world leader in hip replacement surgery. “I guess I lucked out.”
A couple of themes stood out from our interesting mid-day conversation. John made an observation that my wife and I have made on numerous occasions: That often people who have the most to complain about do the least complaining (and vice-versa). He cited as an example his roommate at the hospital who has spent half of his life in hospitals “due to having been dealt a bad hand of cards.” “But in the time we’ve been roommates here, do you think he’s complained? Not once. He’s friendly and optimistic every day and very pleasant company.”
The other main theme of our conversation was work. I learned that John has always been a salesman and has spent more than 30 years selling cars – mostly high-end cars including BMW, Mercedes Benz, and Acura. His doctor discouraged him from working for health reasons two years ago and he really misses it. “I just love selling.” He said he is a “people person” and is good at reading people – understanding their needs and what makes them tick. This made him a good salesman. He share his philosophy that if you understand a customer’s needs, give them the information they need, then back off and let them make their own decision, it’s far better than to push them into buying. His belief is that a customer who feels they’ve been dealt with respectfully may tell ten friends about their experience – but a customer who is unhappy with their consumer experience will tell a hundred. We shared a laugh over the irony that he was always provided with luxury cars as a “perk” of his employment but “I never really liked to drive all that much.”
We talked about cars and were interrupted a couple of times by other hospital patients asking him for a cigarette or a light. “My only vice” he said, pointing to his cigarettes. He responded to each request with friendly generosity. At one point another patient pointed to his cigarette and John said “Sure” and gave him one. He then said “See? That’s what I was talking about. That man’s had a stroke and hasn’t spoken a word since I came here. I don’t even know if he can understand English, but he’s always friendly and greets me with a smile and a nod.”
When John asked what I was doing in retirement I told him about my photography and he said I was lucky to have such an interest. “Too many people are bored in retirement and just watch tv.” I explained the 100 Strangers project and asked if he’d like to participate and he said he’d be glad to. As mentioned, the light was strong but I thought I would experiment with backlighting and he moved his wheelchair just under the overhang of the Admitting entrance where I broke out my home-made reflector, now covered with aluminium foil. I wasn’t pleased with the results and we moved further under the overhang and stopped using the reflector which was producing an overly-bright, harsh reflected light. Next was a problem with reflections on his glasses which I proceeded to coax him to remove for a few photos. These were the most successful photos but I will include examples of the others in the comment section below.
I thanked John for an enjoyable chat and explained I had to get home and prepare to attend a friend’s wedding. I offered to drop off a print for John as a thank you and he said “Well, you know where to find me – at least for the next week or so. I spend as much time outside as I can; partly so I can smoke but also because I hate hospitals.”
Thank you John for participating in 100 Strangers. You are now Stranger #107/200 in Round 2 of my project. I hope you recover quickly and that you get your wish of having your medical problems solved and being able to return to the sales floor where you belong.
Find out more about the project and see pictures taken by other photographers in our 100 Strangers-Group at www.flickr.com/groups/100strangers/
To browse Round 1 of my 100 Strangers project click here: www.flickr.com/photos/jeffcbowen/sets/72157633145986224/
Follow-up note: Since the hospital is a short distance from my home, I pass by fairly often and continued to keep in touch with John who was usually in his wheelchair in front of the building (avoiding as much as he could of the hospital experience). I gave him his photo on one occasion which he thanked me for without opening the envelope. Late last week I stopped seeing him and assumed he had been sent home. Today I spotted him again and stopped to inquire how his recovery was going. He told me he had talked his way out of the hospital and gone home but after a couple of days of great pain and trouble coping, had talked his way back into the hospital for some more rehab. "Man, if there's one thing I HATE it's having to admit I was wrong!" he said. I replied "Yeah, it's especially hard when it's the first time." He laughed. He thinks he will be fully ready to return home in one more week and said he has resumed his hobby of driving the head floor nurse crazy any way he can. I suggested he not overdo it in case he needs a hospital stay in the future. His reply: "Oh, there's lots of hospitals in this city." I wished him well and he said "Oh, I meant to tell you... I showed the photo to my mother and she said 'Who took this? They managed to make you look half intelligent.' We shared a laugh and he said "That's the nicest thing she's said to me in years. Thank you!" It appears the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. Get well, John.