Two days ago I was in this office when I got a phone call. A caregiver of a guy we will call Fred called to make sure I was in the office. Caregiver can be used several different ways. Something about her questions seemed to imply she was not a MMJ Caregiver but a Nursing type Caregiver. I asked if he was home bound but she said no. He was a quadriplegic from an ATV injury 2 years ago. He has an injury that has allowed him to recover with tons of work and set backs his ability to use his shoulder muscles but not good strength in his forearms or wrists or grip. He has no use of his legs. The unknowns of opening this business weigh on me sometimes a little and sometimes more than a little. For what ever reason I felt wildly emotional about this guy coming in. My first wheelchair patient. One of the first patients I have seen who has bigger problems than most people. I worried about the ramp and the ramp inside. Will there be enough room for him to pass between the coffee table and the chairs in the waiting room? I lost it just a little bit. I was very happy but I was trying not to cry or trying to stop. Fortunately another patient came in and took my mind off the in coming patient. I am so happy that other patient came in because I was unsure how I would be able to keep it together. So sad I am so self adsorbed that I am worried about me when a guy who has been skating a razors edge between life and death is going to come through the doors. He came in near the end of the last patient's visit and he and his caregiver waited in my office while we wrapped things up with the last patient. I quizzed him on the ramp and parking. When I asked him about the coffee table being too wide he told me that it was a nice walnut coffee table. He could tell I had thought about him before today. He could tell that he meant something to me outside of who he is. He told me with a tired but genuine smile that "It sounds like a good thing for both of us we met today." I agree. My hope is that I mean something to him that is bigger than who I am.