I needed a taste of my own medicine for this day. . .
- I drove past a woman lying on the side of the road. Five of us successfully swerved to miss her. I darted back as quickly back to the scene. I found an elderly woman bleeding heavily from her mouth. My mind reeled to ask the necessary questions, take the appropriate steps, all in the correct order. No apparent head injury, no broken bones, etc. Carefully, carefully I assisted her inside her home. She did not know any of her neighbors, she had no family in the area, no friends she could call. I felt overwhelmed with sadness and a greater sense of responsibility. Soon I was familiar with every room in her house as I helped to get her cleaned up. I checked in with her several times during the day. I didn’t start out the day expecting this divine appointment, but here it is. Her hands and face are scuffed up, she has a broken tooth, etc. She is miraculously alive. My heart rate stayed elevated for hours because I kept (unnecessarily) replaying the scene. That is futile and unproductive. I had to leave her because. . .
- I was supposed to be at the pharmacy to pick up the appropriate prescriptions for my mother’s colonoscopy. I called to notify her I was running very late. No answer. I assessed things and realized that, yes, she was sitting outside in 100-degree weather as she waited outside for me. Diversion, diversion.
- Plans changed again. She wanted to join me immediately. No problem. . . until she realized she had lost her glasses. I don’t wear glasses, but I don’t understand how you do that. We headed back to her residence after she looked throughout her purse, to no avail.
- Alzheimer’s, Alzheimer’s. . . she couldn’t find the glasses, the home health nurse couldn’t, I couldn’t. A new Alzheimer’s facility being built across the street is near completion. She pointed out again today that she was ready to become their first resident. I don’t foresee that happening for awhile. However, I was ready to add an emergency trip to the ophthalmologist’s for the day. Plans changed after the three of us looked in every single room twice because. . .
- I found them in the car. She had been sitting on the eyeglasses. Not a problem, and we continued on with the game plan. In the one bright spot of the day, I dropped her dog off at the kennel for the next 24 hours. Good thing, because. .
- The Dulcolax worked well. Too well. Too quickly. I was caught off-guard again. Anyone who has had a colonoscopy understands the details here. We start the Golytely in 10 minutes. I was already near my breaking point from washing so many things, I thought I was about to drop. I sent a text message to my husband for some cleaning supplies that we needed and. . .
- He came home with a Heath candy bar included in the bag. It’s amazing how a Heath bar can make a situation so much better. I looked back over the events so far. . .
I can see what has gone wrong, or I can look for what went correctly. It is sure to be a long night ahead. The sun is sure to rise tomorrow. It’s about perspective.
Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love him. – James 1:12