by Sylviane James
Let’s call this gentleman Ben. I saw him walking towards the door of the clinic this day. He was very tanned, with a short sleeves blue T-shirt and a pair of long slacks. He looked very fit for a 70 ish year old man, but his posture was one of a broken man. He entered the room and with a quick “Hi” as a brief introduction, says that he doesn’t really know what he is doing here!
Ben: “Anyway i am here now so I may as well ask for your opinion” he says.
“May as well” I replied amused and interested. I ask him to sit down.
Ben: “Well they (Doctors and numerous physical therapists) told me that there is nothing i can do about it, that’s it, i am done with running, let alone competing. Quite frankly i don’t care anymore. (long silence) i don’t really want to live anymore, (silence) if it must be this way!”.
I was not saying a word. I noticed that the silence surprised him a little, but he only very briefly glanced at me, he was sitting legs apart with his forearms pressing on his thighs to support the weight of his body bent over his legs, hands flopping between his knees, head down looking at the floor.