Sat in the library basement. This is where we go during the weekday evenings to work on our individual projects - me, my blog. My husband, his office work. My daughter, her assignments (we home school). Had issues with my laptop. It wasn't allowing me to long on to WiFi for some reason. So as I sat, I observed. Unable to type - transfer what I wrote in my composition book (Sage's Blog) -[which was a different topic post] to my computer for another post.

My husband sat adjacent, doing his work on his laptop; multitasking, watching the NBA finals from his Samsung tablet while we both kept an eye on our daughter (who sat about 5 yards away within eyesight), making sure she was working productively. Of course, I photographed that moment.

While in this very same seating arrangement a day prior, I was successfully typing on my computer. In the midst of a healthy stream of thought-to-words vibe, this woman appears. Noisily. Almost intrusive. To the point, is she insane?! Instantly annoying me at the time of her invasion -- with her huffing and puffing. Breathing heavily as if she ran over a mile, then up (oppose to down) some stairs to get there. Anxiously rumbling through her tiny overstuffed bag filled with paperwork with this look of shock; eyes bulged, appearance dis-shoveled. Then, reading her textbook (or some sort of important book) ALOUD to herself - nonstop. The more she read, the more my energy shifted. I could not focus. There was zero self discipline within me. Like a petulant child, I began to rant and rave adamantly, but quietly to my husband as if he were my daddy and going to tell the big, bad mean lady to stop being so rude. Yet my knowing in wisdom, it's best to keep my hostile mouth shut.

Middle-aged. Abnormal looking bulging eyes. Slightly heavy set, height challenged female with enormous sized natural breast - seemingly larger than her whole body frame. She had a presence when she entered, when she sat down. Immediately I hoped her stay was brief. You can hear her coming without even seeing her. That day, was not the day for me. I was on full writer's mode. Not even my daughter could penetrate with preteen neediness or moodiness, no matter how hard she tried.

First, the woman pulled out a full box of Lysol wipes from her black purse ~ instant fresh wipes, this is an awesome invention, so I'm not mad at her about sanitizing her work space. I can relate to possibilities of OCD or germaphobe type tendencies. Rejoiced when I got older - this condition was finally given a name. Yay! I'm somewhat normal despite my obsessive need to clean. I digress.

She then whipped out her wipe loudly (to me, it sounded like thunder, yes, the whipping of the wipe) and aggressively began to wipe down her area as if she were in the privacy of her own home - house cleaning (sanitizing) after a dirty adult party. Followed the wipe with a noisy dry paper towel (which sounded like fingernails on a chalkboard) presumably retrieved from the close by restroom.

Noisily (sounding as if she was more than one person, a gang of school children to be more precise) got out her laptop and unorganized paperwork; and slammed her books on the table. All while still huffing and puffing. Mind you, it's evening. Library closes at 9 p.m. I was mindful of the possibly she may have had a long day. Probably took a bus here - based on her arrival with the over stuffed bags, hair all over the place, heavy breathing and such. Maybe she had some exam the next day. She has a preteen at home driving her nuts like my daughter occasionally does. I was sympathetic, but very annoyed. And I wished I had it in me to make her aware of the way she was changing my energy.

Beyond annoyed, I leaned over to my husband. Began to rant and rave about my grievances. I doubt if he even knew. Or cared at the time. Tunnel visioned, he can focus. He said nothing, as usual. He's a very calm man. The one I fell in love with. Instinctively I knew it best I not speak. She was in close enough proximity to whisper, "please keep it down". But as annoyed as I was, pissed to be blunt, that whisper may have came out not so nicely. Being a dutiful mother, demonstrator of good etiquette & behavior, modeling for my precocious daughter (and for the dignity of myself), I did the most peaceful, the most civilized thing. I quietly gathered my computer and I sat my angry bird self down at a space still close to my husband and my child, but far away from "that woman".

Back to the beginning of this post: Low and behold, the very next day (tonight), I was seated in the same area. Same sequence - my husband next to me. Daughter across from us. My computer malfunctions. I'm sitting. Wandering in mind. Watching. Absorbing surroundings until my husband is ready to leave. Guess who comes in and sits right across from us - again. "That woman!" I looked at my husband, discreetly whispered, "if that woman makes all that noise again tonight, I'm going to address it". He continued sitting there quietly watching his basketball game. As if I didn't say a word.

She sat down and I observed her more closely. Thinking there must be something going on with her mentally or something. No grown person makes that much noise in a library and not be apologetic. So I watched, being a people watcher and all, curious. The more I noticed, the more curious I became. Here, I had more time to "notice" things unlike before when I had to focus on my writing. Now I'm in a position to exercise more reason, more rationale in my possible internal dialogue.

Today, I observed what was written on the book she was wrestling with: USMLE. I wondered what that was, so I googled (chromed) it on my Iphone. "United States Medical Licensing Examination".

Hmm, maybe this is some serious medical issue here. Maybe she's in the medical field. But, I wondered, "why doesn't she have an inhaler for that breathing". Today I noticed her unusual looking large eyes. Day prior they seemed just large as if she were, uh needing something. They seemed to look as though they are about to pop out. A Halloweenish look of surprise - to attempt to describe. Then I remembered a few aunts with a thyroid condition. I think their eyes bulged as a side effect to the medication for that disease. I was sitting there idly guessing. Obviously bored by this time.

Gregarious by nature, I asked her, "I noticed your labored breathing, by chance are you asthmatic?" I suffered terribly with asthma as a child. Better now. But I can vividly remember how it was difficult to breath. And I wondered how she was able to do all the things she was doing (cleaning, moving papers, etc) By the way, she wiped down her table like last time. Everything was a repeat. But this day, I was less annoyed by her presence.

Her affable reply, "no, I have....". A disease I've never heard of. Since my stroke, I request people spell things I can't immediately comprehend. Sometimes if I can visualize it, I can better understand.

"Pulmonary Arterial Hypertention" (research it) she said. I have never heard of this. She looked pleasant but sounded ill with the breath and with the eyes. She proceeded to explain bits of the disease and eventually she's going to "suffocate to death". "Oh sh-t!", I uttered in my mind. What the hell is this? This woman is like, walking dead but still functioning day-to-day with normal activities. While sounding as if she's going to pass out with her next step. I sat there stunned hoping I didn't show it. Just a day prior, I wanted to unleash my verbal wrath on her - a complete stranger.

She was very gracious and surprisingly likable. I mentioned I notice she was studying a medical book, was she in the field or in pursuit. Turns out, she's a nurse. She's employed by DCFS. I had her elaborate. She did and described what she does. Once I was better informed, I was thankful I didn't know what Department of Children and Family Services was for.

She's now studying to become a nurse practitioner. That's what that bulky book (USMLE) she was reading aloud the previous day was for. This woman has goals in spite of her circumstance. Bravo to anyone who is enduring devastating obstacles under the most challenging situation.

She wasn't a whiner or a complainer but a survivor. Here it is, this annoying woman and I had so much in common - both fighters against the odds. She felt safe enough to be vulnerable with me. Said she fears someone will attack her and she won't be able to defend herself due to the disease suffered. She mentioned she can get hit by a bus and die that way. I view my disease in a similar fashion. Anything can happen. Just keeping living your best, a quality life until there is no more life in you.

She's middle-aged. On the heavy side for a someone her height. She commented, she should lose weight, but also was realistic - if she can barely get down a few stairs, walk to the chair she was seated in without huffing and puffing, how and the heck was she going to exercise. I listened intently as she spoke. She has a boyfriend, so I guess she's definitely not letting her illness stop her. There is no cure or medication for her disease.

You just never know what someone is going through. [Oftentimes people are shocked when they hear I had a stroke. On dialysis. Need a kidney. Have an aorta aneurysm]. What someone has been through. Most of us have a story - some good, some not so much. Instantly, I had the utmost compassion. We chatted a bit more until I let the conversation naturally end.

I'm so glad I was sagaciously mindful of my words initially. Never do I want to offend (or be offended). I believe thoughts, words are things. They can hurt or they can heal.

"That woman" inspired me. I'm sure she has no clue how irate I was with her demeanor, her behaviors, her ticks. She has no idea how in my head she was/is. As I watch her, I write. I think she propelled me into an even better person. Minutes after we spoke, I wrote this blog in my composition book. Unfortunately I could barely read exactly what I wrote in those quick three full pages. After the stroke, I couldn't write at all. Having a blog is something superamazing. I wrote as I continued to observe her (still huffing and puffing, moving papers around) until the library closed.

Next time I see her, I can pause for a moment. Be more tolerant (as I remind my kids). More reflective and not so consumed into what "I'm" doing. As usual, I think I've met another stranger-friend. I've become even more inspired. More enlightened. More conscious. Anytime this happens, it's a good day. Temporary technological difficulties helped me SEE a great gift.