Yesterday my son and I escorted my husband to the dermatologist for Moh’s surgery for a basal cell carcinoma under his eye, something that should have been addressed years ago, and was now, as it was revealed, HUGE. The surgery spanned four hours and left him with fifty-two stitches under his eye. An eye that would soon turn black and vision would be impeded. But that is not what this blog is about.

The incident I am going to describe is becoming more and more typical and disturbing. When we entered the waiting room which was the size of a postage stamp, there were patients around the perimeter and an elderly man in center stage, with a captive audience in the process of Moh’s surgery; he himself was in the process and he had a large bandage on his face.

When we entered this theater, he was in the process of showing old photos of himself as a paratrooper (for another country which does not have to be named) and as I found a seat, I heard him say something about female paratroopers. Eventually he came to me with the photos, and I dutifully and politely said he was a handsome guy.

In a blink, the topic changed. He had his audience and took advantage of it.

He invoked the name of our past president. I won’t repeat what he said except that he repeated HUSEIN, HUSEIN. But before he could get into his rant, I told this man, “Excuse me, NO POLITICS!” I don’t want to hear anymore.”

He went ballistic. After all, what right did I have to shut this narcissist up?

“This is not politics,” he countered. To which I replied, “I don’t want to hear this.”

“Don’t listen!”

He cursed President Obama. He said he went to find the grave, on-line, of Obama’s father. He demeaned and cursed the country from which he came. He went on to curse Hilary Clinton. His rant became more and more vile. He proclaimed that Muslims were waiting in the streets to cut off our heads. His words became more and more fetid, his ideations more and more evil, and we were just in a doctor’s office. None of the staff intervened. The patients in the office just stared and I STOOD UP.

He told me if I didn’t like it I should get the fuck out and take my husband with me.

He told me that the problem with the world was that all the power was being given to women.

I saw red. He would have hit me, I am sure.

I went out to the car where my son was sitting and tried to contain my blood pressure. I told him what happened but when he bolted from the car to the office I asked him not to go in. But he did, here we go.

And then it escalated. Of course. The man called my son a “mama’s boy” and a few other choice words.

My son stepped up and looked this narcissistic old bully, in the eye, and offered, “you poor, pathetic old man, you miserable excuse for a human being.” He raised his fists to my son.

This is how you carry on in a doctor’s office…”

“Really? Really?  You would hit me?”

How do you contain a bully? You don’t need words. You take a photo.

My son pulled out his camera and went after him and the bully turned his back and ran. Yes he did, he disappeared into a surgery room for cover. If I had that photo I would have posted it. He should walk the walk of shame, the walk of hatred.

We left to pick up lunch and later returned; he had left. We apologized to everyone in the waiting room for any upset.

I said, “NO ONE demeans women on my watch.”

My son said, NO ONE demeans anyone!”

And you know what? The other patients were grateful. To the one who said, “he was just showing off,” I said, “this was beyond showing off, this was totally inappropriate and unacceptable.”

Then we settled in to watch Governor Cuomo updating us on The Corona Virus and we shared our anxiety. Then continued a fabulous chat. We had won. We were the victors.

Yesterday, my husband had a large cancer excised from his face.

How does one excise the cancer of hatred and intolerance in this country?

STAND UP.