Fast / Coffee

I walked into the lab at my doctor’s office and got in line.  The TV was playing The Price is Right.  I had a twinge on pseudo nausea.  Only because as a kid I only watched the Price is Right when I was sick and home from school.  So things like 7Up and daytime game shows sometimes regurgitate those childhood memories of  lying sick, on the couch, staring at a 13 inch black and white.

Once at the front desk I find out that “fasting” includes coffee and now I can’t do my lab tests.  Despite the fact that I’m starving I haven’t technically fasted.  Frustrated, I head up the elevator to my doctor’s office to see if I can reschedule my appointment for my physical as now the lab results won’t be back in time.  Once there, I’m in line again.  A man behind me, in the waiting room, is staring at the TV and talking.  He’s also watching The Price is Right.  He’s bald, with a ponytail in the back.  He has a long beard and he’s holding a giant soft drink cup from McDonalds.  I guess he’s not fasting either.  He’s talking to the TV.  At first I think he’s talking on a Bluetooth.   It’s funny how a few  years have changed that perception.  I remember seeing my first “guy on a Bluetooth”.  We were in a restaurant and I was sure he was crazy and talking to himself….now I’m assuming this guy is on a Bluetooth, but no, he may be crazy.  He’s turns around and he’s definitely talking to himself.  Maybe he’s talking to the Price is Right contestant.  I watch him, slyly until it’s my turn at the reception desk.   Once there, I learn I should not reschedule my dr. appointment, relearn that drinking coffee isn’t fasting and get instructions to go back to the lab another time.  I really threw a monkey wrench in my doctor’s plan to read me my cholesterol results in person. 

On the way out of the building I stopped at the coffee kiosk.  Now that I wasn’t  fasting I could have food.  I ordered a Danish.   They required a $5 minimum to use a card and since I was without cash I had to upgrade my selection, (more coffee) just so I could feed myself (and caffeinate myself further).  I was really frustrated.  I was frustrated, because I had to buy more than I wanted just so I could have “something”, because I was an hour late to work, because I had spent more time in an elevator with strangers than I ever wanted too and now had to go back and re-fast again.  The morning put me in a bad place.  But then, I remembered something else.

I recently came across the phrase “first world problems”.  I’m not sure if it’s a new catch phrase or hashtag but I understood its meaning instantly.  These were my first world problems; too much coffee, rescheduled blood test, having to buy more food than I wanted...Really?  That’s it?  Too much food and too much health care?  What the hell had I become?  

For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction and someone coined the term, "First World Problems" because there are far worse, Third World Problems out there to deal with.  To put us in our place so we'd realize the comparison.  I'm not even sure if its still ok to use the term, "third world".  But, a first world problem is a luxury in a land where we label other countries third world.  As I was writing this I was trying to explain to my daughter, the idea behind 1^st world and 3^rd world.  We spoke about "third world problems".  I explained to her as “real problems” like poverty, sickness, bad water, even homelessness….she said, “dad, for those people, that’s just life”.  She was right. 

There are far worse things in life than needing to add a large coffee to my order so I can spend $5 on food.  But still, I’m conditioned to my surroundings and my emotions.  My frustrations and joy are derived from those situations.  I go crazy at Costco, trying to work through a traffic jam of shopping carts driven by people eating chicken wing samples and loading up on an overabundance of food.  I criticize them in my head.  I come down on myself as well.  How can we have so much and be so miserable?

The reality is, for most us, it’s simply the zip code we were born into.   Not that were rich, by American standards, but that curve is thrown off by global standards.  If I was born in Tijuana or Haiti would I have such luxurious first world problems?   Elsewhere, a $5 minimum is a daily wage not a bump up to use electronic currency.  So what’s the answer?  I don’t know.  I can’t live in my bubble life never getting upset by people or situations.  But, perhaps, I can realize my reality.  I can recognize my blessings more and in turn, build patience, add service and praise to my daily routine.

DC