So...I'm back here. After almost three years...writing! Not quite sure what to make of this but I had an old post jump up in my Facebook feed and I felt a nudge to write. So here I am. This blog was a dear friend to me during a major spiritual growth spurt several years ago and it's a bit like the mate to a pair of Doc Martens I found in a moving box this past summer, after having been MIA for 10+ years. It feels good to dust it off and slip into it again! So hello, old friend.
Can I just say something out loud? You know how to tell if a friend is REALLY worth their
salt? She walks up to you and knocks on your car window, only to find you binge eating your feelings via a roast beef sub (lettuce, tomato, pickles, onions, cheese, mayo, mustard, oil, and vinegar), in your own driveway, no less, and instead of running screaming or averting her eyes and pretending not to notice, she says "Oh Honey...let me give you a hug!" She embraces you in all your crummy, lettucey glory. Kind of like God would if he were a Southern woman.
I think God sends you people like that just in time. When we first moved into our current house, I was going on week 5 of chronic daily migraines. I was hiding behind my sunglasses in a sour mood, when the very same friend knocked on my car door, smiling.
"Are we really going to do this?," I thought. "Yep, looks like we are."
I was pleasantly surprised to find that her sunny exterior was 100% genuine and she's one of the most guileless, kind hearted people I've ever met! I like to think of her as my car angel now...and so much more. Just when I'm feeling too overwhelmed to exit my car, and I'm planning my demise...death by submarine sandwich, my car angel knocks on my door and doles
Today, I was hiding because I'd just spent hours at the hospital in the pediatric radiology unit with three nurses and a radiologist trying to comfort my screaming child who was yelling, "Mommy, you told me I wouldn't remember it! That it wouldn't hurt!!" We were having an invasive test done for kidney reflux and had requested a sedative that would help her through the ordeal. It was the equivalent of slamming two glasses of Chardonnay and saying, "Yep, I'm good. Ready to have my bladder blown up to the size of a bowling ball. Oh and make sure you use a cocktail straw to get up there. Then I'd like to pee on command while four chicks and a dude I've never met watch."
I told her how sorry I was because I didn't know. I just had no idea. I sang her the awful Barney "I Love You" song that we sang when she was little. I prayed quietly in her little ear for it to be over quickly.
It wasn't. She got the award from the doctor for being the child whose bladder held the most
liquid she'd seen, EVER. Not a great award to compete for if it means doing this!
When it was over, I just averted my eyes and remained quiet because I feared that if I made eye contact, I might very well throat punch the staff, and I knew that wasn't nice. Especially because they were just following their protocol and did their jobs well. Plus, one was pregnant...so there's that.
But to the doctor who suggested the mild sedative was totally unnecessary, I wanted to say, "How do you like me now bitch?!" when all was said and done. We didn't need two Chardonnays. We needed three martinis, extra dirty, Dean Martin style: one martini, two martini, three martini, floor.
But, at the end of the day, my baby is okay. Probably more okay than I am. And it's been a rough week but Spring Break starts tomorrow so the world will be set to rights. I haven't throat punched anyone all week and my daughter's kidneys are doing all the kidney things they should. I'm thankful for supportive friends and family that care about my kids! I'm thankful for car angels that don't run from the crummy version of Kate but embrace my crumminess. I'm
thankful for hospital staff that don't get emotional under pressure. There can only be one Mama.
And, I'd really like to end this day by trying the martinis, minus the cocktail straw/bowling ball/peeing in public trick. Bring on the floor!