Praise the Lord and Pass the Tylenol, we’re back home!

I was a SAINT, Chumps!

As I darted in and out of all the fun little obstacles that came with getting Angry Baby to the Pediatrician, I was writing this post in my brain meat. It was going to be a zippy little mini-rant about the STUPID PARKING LOT being full, and the parking garage being near capacity. I was going to tell you about having to “hold my breath” when I parked, because it was such a tight fit, with a nice ending about how strangers are always so sweet when they see a baby in a medical setting, It was going to be great. As I was mentally scrawling sentences of comedy gold for YOU, my dearest reader, something changed my whole outlook on my FUN(!)day out.

I saw a woman, who couldn’t have been older that her early 40’s, wearing a knit cap and sweater, in THIS weather. She was clearly fighting for her life. The woman didn’t have to smile, she didn’t even have to make eye-contact. As she gave us a big grin we locked eyes and connected just for a moment. She got on the elevator with us, and as the door closed, she turned to me and quietly said, “I remember you from back at Christmas time.”

Back  in December, when Angry Baby had her 2 month check up, I  was having a very bad day pain and infection wise, and had to take a break from walking. unfortunately I was alone with the baby and if it hadn’t been for the bench in the building’s lobby, I don’t know how I would have made it.  

“I had my hair then, so you might not remember me, but I patted you on the shoulder and told you to take it easy and it would be okay.”

I suddenly flashed. Not the flash of remembrance, a lot of that time is a blur for me. I felt the instant, burning-hot, flush of shame. 

Today we returned to the pediatrician’s office, the first time since I was healthy and fully recovered, and all I could do was grouse internally about the parking/ hassle of traveling with my little angry miracle.

HAY Crib Keeper! It’s called perspective, dipstick.

Until I met up again with Darla (that’s her name, BTW) I was completely void of any perspective. I’ve remedied that and have NO COMPLAINTS about my visit to the Doc today, I celebrate the traffic, the tight parking, the hour wait in a hot room , and most importantly, the healthy baby yelling away in the back of my mom mobile.

Take a look around today, if you see someone who is CLEARLY having a worse go of it than you, do something nice for them…at the very least, make eye-contact and smile.

 I know this is not my usual fare, and I apologize if this is too sappy for your snarky taste…sometimes life has a wonderful way of reminding you just how flipping lucky your stupid, ungrateful, baby vomit-crusted, self is.

I gots to be real about it, yo.


Comments

Praise the Lord and Pass the Tylenol, we’re back home! — 2 Comments

  1. “sometimes life has a wonderful way of reminding you just how flipping lucky your stupid, ungrateful, baby vomit-crusted, self is.”

    Preach on, Crib Keeper. So true. 🙂

    Beautiful story. Bless Darla’s heart…

  2. She’s a living Angel, I didn’t put it in the post because it sounded too cheesy to be true but later that same day, back in December 17th to be exact(!) was the first time they used the MIRACLE treatment, IODOSORB on me. Sure, it took another 3 months of IODOSORB, but who’s counting! The first time we met proved to be a huge turning point for me healthwise, and I’m hoping our conversation yesterday was HER turning point!

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