I, like many others in the Grand Forks area, have felt the absence of our gentle giant Dr. Henry Ajaero.
On Friday last I had a doctor’s appointment for a prescription refill at 12:10 p.m.; I arrived seven or so minutes late but was greeted at reception and moved to a waiting room for the doctor. After a 10 or 15 minute wait there is a knock on the door and the receptionist advises me that the doctor doesn’t have the time to see me and I will have to reschedule my appointment or go to emergency. My day finally ended at five hours later.
FIVE MINUTES (this letter will take less than one minute to read).
You are welcome for the five minutes I gave as I waited for you.
I would like to pass on one of my personal experiences of five minutes when I served in Iraq and Kuwait.
Often returning to base after missions or supply runs my section would often hand out candy and rations to the children who gathered or chased our convoys.
We were later told by our interpreters that after we left, the children were gathered up and the rations were taken from them by the Taliban.
After that, regardless of our personal safety, we would dismount and wait until the candy was eaten by the children. Five minutes was all it took from our busy timetable to make a difference.
Today as I left the clinic I felt unworthy of your time, abandoned and dismissed. I am glad that unlike most of us common folk, your day is so perfectly planned and that at 12:36 p.m. in your day you were positive you did not have five minutes for me.
You are welcome for the five minutes I gave as I waited for you. Don’t worry about my pain and discomfort as I sit in Emergency waiting to have my routine prescription filled (hasn’t changed in five years).
Please sir, enjoy your Thanksgiving weekend and I hope the five minutes you saved on me made a difference in your day. I know it did in mine.
Dave Bachmier, CD Sergeant Retired,
Veteran of Cyprus, Iraq and Kuwait, sufferer of PTSD.