Perfect Balance or Blown Away

That Dr. Mercy, he sure liked to talk. You see, it was his way of keeping his English up so that it flowed when he spoke. That, and the fact that he’d need to be understood when he gave lectures or presentations. Especially if he was going to be going overseas.

Admittedly, it wasn’t the technical jargon that set him back. It was the little stuff. The daily conversational kind of chit-chat words that a person really wouldn’t pick up from their year abroad, especially if most of that time was spent in a lab.

While Dr. Mercy was serious, he was definitely more than human enough to understand a thing or two about what people are made of. And not just because he could name off tissues, cells, bones, guts, and all that other stuff. No, he was one of the few good folk I’ve met.

So, that Dr. Mercy, yeah, he liked to talk during the hour that was set aside each week, an hour sandwiched into an already very busy schedule.

Though he was what people might call short, the fellow was quite solid. But his solid didn’t come from the bit of running and fair bit of swimming that he regularly did.

No. His solid came from being raised at a time when judo was one of the few mandatory options kids were given in school. From an early age. He even continued when he entered med school. He thought it would help him stay focused. And it sure did. 

Once, we had talked a little about postural sway.  And I reminded him of this, to show that I was paying attention and that, although my memory isn’t anywhere near photographic, it still works. 

Usually.

Now, I’ve been told that maintaining balance is a huge part of judo, like in any sport that requires moving people around. Dr. Mercy said that he was good, but there was one person he had gone against since his childhood, one person he could not beat.

At this point in the lesson - remember, Will was getting paid to ‘sit-and-speak’ - at this point in the lesson, this was taken as a cue to ask a few questions.

“Why couldn’t you beat him?”

“Because he had near-perfect balance.”

“He had near-perfect balance?”

“Yes. His balance was better than mine ever was.”

“Why do think so?”

“Because he was blind. Had been that way since childhood.”

“Was his blindness due to malnutrition or illness?”

“No. When he was a child, he made a mistake. He tried to pick up something he should not have. It was during the war.  Made him blind. And one hand had no fingers.”

“Wow.”

“And now it looks like our time is up.”

“Thank you…”

“Can we meet again at the same time next week?”

"Sure."

"Thank you for your time. See you next week."

So, the sessions had a tendency to be like this. We’d read. He’d ask questions about meaning, usage, whatever. And occasionally, he’d share some of his stuff.

Though I can’t remember everything we talked about, I definitely can’t forget how I he made me feel. Not that I can explain it in simple words. Maybe that’s what this space is for. 

There are three more of these to get through.