To Respond, not React (And A Really Long Skyway)

Developing patience in Middle-Age & Beyond

Photo by Duane Mendes on Unsplash

Said, woman, take it slow and it'll work itself out fine
All we need is just a little patience
Said, sugar, make it slow and we'll come together fine
All we need is just a little patience
Patience, mm-mm, yeah-Guns N’ Roses

I try to keep my weekly posts focused, clear, and concise. Ha! Who am I kidding? The real me—especially when I’m in storytelling mode—tends to meander a bit. My sisters and I have a very specific and honed skill: we can go off on a hundred tangents in one conversation and still, miraculously, find our way back to the original point. Eventually. Kind of.

So today, I’m giving myself permission to let this post wander a little. You see, it’s been a week. And if there’s one lesson that has stuck with me through the chaos, it’s the profound importance of patience—especially as we age.

I recently came across an article titled “17 Things We No Longer Have Patience For,” and it got me thinking. The piece is funny and insightful, pointing out how our tolerance for nonsense (and poorly designed tech interfaces) seems to shrink with each passing birthday. But it also highlighted something deeper: the tendency for older adults to lose patience—not just with life’s petty annoyances, but in moments of real stress. You know, full “grumpy old man” syndrome. And while the grumps may be justified sometimes, I’ve been working hard on not joining that club.

In my own pursuit of better health—more movement, cleaner eating, and better sleep—I’ve realized that emotional health is every bit as important. That includes managing stress, protecting my peace, and learning to respond to situations calmly, rather than reacting with frustration, anxiety, or full-blown rage.

So…let me tell you about my week.

My husband was scheduled for surgery this past Tuesday. And when I say scheduled, I mean we’d been preparing for this for nearly a year. ( I keep saying we because I was there every step of the way. Plus, his medical issue led to brain fog and a lack of focus, so I managed all the details.) So many appointments. So many tests. We booked this surgery back in January for an April slot—the soonest available. The surgeon even told us he didn’t want to wait that long, but he was fully booked. He asked us to stay close to home in case there was a cancellation. No luck there.

The hospital is three hours from our home, so we made the decision to drive down the day before and stay at the hotel across the street—complete with a handy skyway connecting us to the hospital. We boarded the dogs, had someone lined up to check on the house, and packed up like pros.

Photo by Greg Rosenke on Unsplash

Then came The Call.

One hour before we were supposed to leave, the phone rang. It was Suzanne from surgical scheduling. (Suzanne, if you're reading this—hi. You were lovely, despite everything.) She said the anesthesiologist had just reviewed my husband's chart and, because of a surgery he had eight years ago, they now required a cardiologist to do a full cardiac exam, an EKG, and a letter stating his heart was stable and “optimized for surgery.” Otherwise, it was all going to be canceled.

CANCELED.

At 11:00 AM.

The day before surgery.

Seriously? This couldn’t have come up during the YEAR of tests?

I calmly asked Suzanne if there was any way to make it work. Could we do the exam at the hospital? Could we speak to someone else? Was there another route? Her answer: no, no, and no. Apparently, there’s a two-month wait to see a cardiologist if you’re a new patient. (Insert a slow, silent scream here.)

Here’s where my “respond, not react” mantra kicked into high gear. In the past, I might have spiraled—freaked out, cried, maybe even yelled. But over the last year, I’ve been working on how I show up in stressful moments. Instead of reacting with frustration or anger, I’ve been trying to respond with calm and curiosity—focusing on solutions instead of panic. So that’s what I did. I asked Suzanne to hold off on canceling. I needed time.

And this, dear readers, is where the story could easily spiral into a novella. I’ll spare you the full 12 chapters (my sisters will get the uncut version). In short: I called the heart hospital where he had the original surgery. No dice with the original doctor, but they had a new cardiologist available the very next morning at 9:15 AM. We booked it. I confirmed with the surgical scheduler and the surgeon himself. Surgery was still on. Then we got in the car and drove.

What followed was two full days of non-stop coordination. I made dozens of phone calls, had what felt like 1,000 conversations, and paced that skyway enough times to rack up over 20,000 steps each day. (My Fitbit thinks I’m an Olympic athlete now.)

But here’s the thing—the real reason I’m telling you this story.

Through all of it—the unexpected curveball, the panic, the bureaucracy, the frustration—I stayed patient. I stayed calm. I was kind. And you know what? Everyone else was too. Every single person I dealt with—doctors, all the nurses!!, schedulers, hospital staff—was responsive, helpful, and efficient. It felt like we were a team, working together toward the same goal: making this surgery happen.

Photo by Sander Sammy on Unsplash

And it did. It happened. Everything went beautifully, and my husband is now recovering well. (I, on the other hand, am still recovering emotionally. And maybe physically. Those 20k steps were real.)

But the win here isn’t just that the surgery went through. It’s that patience won the day. And that’s no small thing.

As we age, patience can sometimes feel harder to summon—especially when we’re tired, stressed, or fed up. But I truly believe it’s one of the most vital muscles we can strengthen. Not just for our emotional well-being, but for our relationships, our resilience, and our ability to navigate a complex and often chaotic world. What about you? Have you been able to maintain patience in middle age and beyond?

So this week’s lesson? Respond, don’t react. Choose calm over chaos. Be the kind, patient person in the room. It pays off—not just in outcomes, but in how you feel at the end of the day. I have not yet mastered these skills, but am working every day to improve. (Sisters…don’t laugh!!)

Also, pro tip: always book the hotel with the skyway. You’re going to need it.

Have a good week…

Much love!

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