Avoid, avoid, avoid. Is anyone else guilty of this? That’s me, lately. Avoiding. Armed with distraction doing what I have to do to get by. Pay my bills, squeak through and gaze at the sun. (It’s almost disorienting seeing so much of the sun.) As for taking anything too seriously or pondering the mysteries inside my head I’m not doing that. I’m busy avoiding.
I’m skimming through my thoughts. I’m discarding anything that would be considered difficult. It’s all comfort food and burying my nose in books I’ve already read. There is something seriously wrong with me if I can’t make the effort to read a new book. I did pick up a John Grisham paperback the other day. Lawyers in Mississippi, bad deals, dirty politics…I wouldn’t expect anything less.
It isn’t like me…to hide. But, hidden I am. I’m like some waaay backwoods hermit building a log cabin with my bare hands. Who am I kidding? I would never live in the woods alone and I wouldn’t dare build anything with my bare hands. I’m a half-assed hermit. A smaller scale hermit? Someone that’s slightly inward, but still enjoys the company of others. Okay, I’m not a hermit at all. I give hermits a bad name.
I’m having a mental break. Not a breakdown, but a break. Like sipping mojitos and flipping through glossy magazines kind of break. I’m hiding. A little.
I’m not oozing sunshine these days and I don’t always believe every cloud has a silver lining. So what? I have hope.
Hope is what drives me. It’s about what’s possible. I can never stray too far and I can’t stay hidden because hope is waiting for me…like this tether for the soul. It anchors me and at the same time sets me free.
We’ve had a rough few days with my boy, Benjamin, who had a severe asthma attack this week – one we couldn’t remedy at home. We brought him in to the hospital. Instead of being banished to the waiting room they took him in immediately and began treating him, then admitted him to the pediatric unit where he stayed for 3 nights.
We didn’t realize how serious all of this was until we were part of the way through. He had alarmingly low oxygen levels and he was way beyond just a little wheezing. He did really well though. He was an excellent patient and had the nurses wrapped around his little…actually…giant finger. He’s got ginormous hands.
Now we’re home armed with all the asthma goodies. We have boxes and boxes of medication, a nebulizer, and a referral for a pediatric asthma clinic. I think that’s where we fell short in all of this. We were given different information every time we brought him into emerg or saw a doctor. We just didn’t know what we were doing. Now we feel more informed and better prepared. Ben is doing much better and we are relieved and happy to have him back home.
(this is a leftover easter coloring eggs pic.)