On Wednesday, September 9, Dr Raymond D Cook put tubes in my baby's ears.
On Friday, September 11, Dr Raymond D Cook drove drunk on a road, not far from my house, 40mph over the speed limit. He crashed his Mercedes into a 20 year old ballerina's Hyundai, killing her. (
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I'm not certain how to process this.
But I am sad. I am sad for the victim, and I'm sad for Dr Cook. Her life is gone. His isn't far from it, at least not the life he knew.
And I'm scared. Because Dr Cook seemed like a genuinely good guy, and he was very reassuring, and I trusted him. And now I don't know if that trust was misplaced. I have no reason to believe that he's been anything but a great doctor in all of our dealings with him. But really, how would I know? Did we luck out that my baby is fine? Did this man, who I liked, who put others at risk by getting behind the wheel after drinking do the same with the knife? I just don't know. And my baby is fine. So I'm not worried that he screwed something up with her, because I don't think he did. But it's my job to protect her, and once again, I should have done better.
And I'm confused. Because I have other friends who drink and drive when they shouldn't. Who can't seem to control the drink. Who are one bad night away from throwing their lives away. They are good people. Good people with a problem. Not unlike Dr Cook.
And I don't know why, maybe it's just because I met him and liked him, but anger isn't what I'm feeling. I see a man who made a tragic mistake, and he and his family are paying dearly for it.