I have arrived. It is that simple. I truly have arrived.

In 1968, fresh out of nursing school, my first assignment was the psychiatric

ward at the hospital in my hometown. That was when I learned about Obsessive

Compulsive Disorder.

Now, please know, up front, I recognize that OCD can be a real problem

for some folks. Thankfully, there are medications that now help and therapeutic

counseling has come a long way, as well.

So... when I started working on that psychiatric unit, night shift,

I was kind of in charge. Yeah, isn't that scary, fresh out of school,

first job and in charge. (Not hardly.)

So, let me get on with my story.

On the unit, there was a large common area, or day room, where patients

congregated during the day and evening shifts. When I came on at 11 p.m,

most folks were tucked in, or in some cases confined as was the need

of the hour.

I was required to make hourly

rounds and keep a close check on everybody, straighten and organize

the common areas, see that they were cleaned,

give morning meds before 7 a.m, and just generally "keep watch."

No problems with any of that except the common area day room where tables

and chairs were mismatched. There were lots of tables. Different colors.

Different chairs. And they stayed all mixed up. I could not stand it.

Each night, as soon as I was

certain all my charges were down for the count, I headed for that room.

I had to match the chairs with the right

tables. The chairs had to be tucked in around the tables just so. And

those tables had to be arranged "properly."

It was while I was doing this

one night that an associate commented about my "obsessive compulsive

behavior."

I looked it up. I read about

it. I studied it. Tendencies, yes, I decided. Disorder, no. That, like

so many other tendencies I have, is who I am.

I happen to like me and most of my tendencies, so I have continued to

want things to match and hang straight and be positioned "properly" over

the years.

I must say it has been a bit of a problem at times. I mean in hotel

lobbies where framed art can sometimes be as large as a whole room in

my home it is not exactly smart to walk over and try to straighten it.

I have learned to fight the urge, but the urge is ever with me.

Until... Oh, yes, there is an until. Trouble is I don't know

when "until" happened. I just know it did.

This past Friday night I was

having dinner at Mac's Steak House

in Warm Springs. I have eaten there often and I have always noticed that

the art does not hang straight. The tables are not level. The mantles

look off. Thus it is in old homes that have been converted to delightful

eateries. You live with it, right? Even appreciate it and fight the urge

to straighten everything because the truth is: you just can't do

it.

So, this time while dining

there, I noticed it all again. And you know what? There was no urge

to "fix" anything. I just sat there

appreciating every unique little characteristic of the room. Amazing,

I thought. Is this really me?

Then on Saturday morning I was in my kitchen which is in the center

of my home and overlooks the dining area. I was standing at a counter

making hamburger patties. Now, there was a time, honest, when no matter

what I was doing, if I looked up and saw that the tablecloth was hanging

an inch or two lower on one side of the table in my dining area, I would

immediately straighten it. I swear. Immediately.

But I finished the patties. Mixed up everything for my chocolate banana

ice cream that I planned to make later in the day. Put on a load of laundry.

Then, while walking by the table later, I remembered the crooked table

cloth and straightened it.

How 'bout that? Gotta tell you, I'm

pretty tickled with myself. Could be that I have finally learned there

are things in this world that

I cannot straighten and even that which I can fix may not call for the

urgency I often have applied to it.

Okay, maybe I have not really "arrived" yet, but I'm

getting there.