When I Grow Up!

I had my yearly physical Monday. It’s no secret I worry and fret days before. When I was little I ran terrified through the pediatricians waiting room, my mother and nurse corralling me into an exam room. All because a neighborhood kid told an elaborate tale of surgery, with saws and knives. Ah...youth!

Making plans the week of? How could I possibly enjoy lunch when my life is hanging in the balance? It’s better to hunker down. And lab work. Ack! When I was the most jittery and terrified of everything I thought the only thing worse than having my blood drawn would be jury duty, on a jet plane, while having my blood drawn.

Not anymore. I was a “cocktail party girl,” (blog post 6/4/17), calm and cool at my check-up this week, throwing my head back in laughter as I chatted up the phlebotomist. I thought of my five year old grandson with such grace and courage in the hospital, all while being poked and prodded and hooked up to an IV for thirteen days.

When he was in the ICU he insisted on donating many of the toys he had been given to the children on his floor. Such bravery and kindness from one so young. I want to be just like him when I grow up!