Sometimes the experiences find you

Sometimes you need to search out new experiences and sometimes they find you. Such was the case this past week when I took my first ambulance ride and had my first stay in a hospital that was not childbirth related.

On Thursday night, I sliced my hand. I should have gone to the clinic for stitches but I figured I could muscle through. Perhaps a scar would forestall my aspirations to become a hand model but I could live with that. By Friday afternoon, it was clear this was not something I could handle myself. I was in pretty significant pain and had spiked a fever. Mark dragged me to the clinic where I was told I had an infection and they were going to treat it with IV antibiotics. After two hours of treatment and six prescriptions, I left the clinic with the instructions that if my hand had not improved or looked worse in morning I was to return to the clinic. Twelve hours later I was back at the clinic being told I would be admitted to the hospital.

What??? This stuff doesn't happen to me. I'm healthy and strong. Heck, I don't ever get a flu shot and you're telling me a little 1/2 inch cut has landed me in the hospital. It's Christmas Eve! I have things to do. Christmas doesn't happen without me. I have people counting on me to make this a fun, special holiday.

Life has a way of humbling the arrogant.

At the hospital I was told I had an aggressive bacterial infection and surgery was the best way to deal with it. I stopped resisting and put myself in the hands of the experts. I spent Christmas Eve and Christmas Day recovering and being pumped with five different antibiotics and was released Monday afternoon.

Lessons Learned
I am guilty of hubris. I have believed that I am not susceptible to things that bring others down. I have believed that I can conquer anything by sheer force of will. What's that they say about pride coming before a fall? Contrary to my own mythology I am not invincible. We can know many things intellectually but until we encounter them experientially they don't fully integrate into our consciousness.

I have been humbled. I will not get out of this life alive. Something will eventually cause my demise. I have some control over what will get me and when this will happen. When I willfully disregard the warnings, I hasten the likelihood of departing this life before my time.

We've all heard the oxygen mask instructions on airplanes. The flight attendant instructs adults to put their oxygen mask on first, then assist their child. The reason being, if you lose consciousness you will not be able to help or save your child. I need to care for myself as I care for my husband and children. If I don't, I won't be here to share their lives.

Little things can become big things in the blink of an eye. Be mindful of the little things.

Allow others to take care of you. I've never been very good at this. I pride (there's that word again) myself on being capable and self-sufficient. I'm the one who cares for everyone else. Turning the tables is uncomfortable but a valuable lesson. Caring for others is an expression of love. I need to permit those I love to love me back. By denying them this, I am rejecting their love. What kind of lesson is that to teach your children? From drying my hair to putting on my socks, opening pill bottles to preparing food, I am giving up some control and allowing others to care for me.

Mark and I have raised some amazing children. When faced with the realization that some adjustments would need to be made to Christmas celebrations, they unanimously agreed to postpone opening gifts and Christmas dinner until Mom could be there. They gave themselves five minutes to be disappointed then rallied and found ways to make the best out of what they had to deal with. In short order the hospital room was decorated, Christmas breakfast was brought in and what really mattered became evident.

A college professor once told me not to judge people by their grand actions but by their day to day behavior. Because of this I know my husband loves me. He washed my hair. He cut my food. This is what love is really all about.

I owe a debt of gratitude to all the doctors, nurses and techs who cared for me. Their kindness and care made my sadness of missing our traditional Christmas bearable.

There are so many more lessons I could explore but I will leave it at this. Like Scrooge when he awakened Christmas morning, I have been changed by this experience. I will take what I have learned and integrate it into my life. I will be a better person because of it.