I'm watching two of my Yankee Candle jar candles burn, nearing the end of their lifespans. One, almost finished, has a clean and beautiful interior. The other has messy wax halfway up the side of the jar. I don't know why they are different, but I'm intrigued by each.

Transitions can be complex. We become accustomed to roles we had, some for many years…partner, parent, employee, healthy person. But circumstances change: a relationship falls apart, children leave home, employment is terminated, and a healthy person suddenly becomes a patient.

had an experience recently where I was physically unable to keep up with those I was with. I’ve never been in that situation before. I was caught off guard and felt I’d let others down – maybe even to the point of being a burden. It didn’t feel good.

I’ve found it interesting that several patients over the years have shared with me that they worked hard to be” a good patient.” When asked what they meant by that, their responses ranged from, “I’m going to do everything the doctor says,” to “I won’t let them know I’m really frustrated by the long wait times to be seen or that the doctor is always in such a hurry.”  Each of them felt they weren’t being “a good patient” if they appeared frustrated or irritated, questioned the medical staff, or asked for a more convenient appointment time, because they didn’t want to be labeled by the staff as “difficult.” It was very important to each of them to be seen as a good patient, maybe even “the perfect patient.”

​“Mother Nature hates a vacuum,” said Lillian, an 83-year-old breast cancer patient. “What do you mean?” I replied. “Think about it,” she said. “If you don’t plant grass, shrubs, trees, flowers, and other things that you want in your lawn, Mother Nature will fill it up with weeds.”

When I was young, I tried to be perfect. I didn’t like making mistakes. A math or spelling test score of 98 wasn’t quite good enough; I wanted the perfect score: 100. And in mid-life, I still didn’t like making mistakes, forgetting something, or having a typo on a newsletter. I strove for perfection.