I love that my little town has a hospital. Three of my kids were born there. So was I, actually. It’s a great addition to our community and I’m thankful for it.
Today I had a routine procedure done but I had to go in thorough the ER entrance. That same door I’d had to walk through the day Vance died. Not gonna lie. It totally sucked.
I barely held it together in the first room but I was glad to have a friend at the registration desk who acknowledged with me that today was hard. She later told me that she’d been praying for me all day, since she’d first seen my name on her list. ❤
Then I had to walk by the room where we waited while they tried to save Vance and where the doctor had come in to tell us he didn’t make it.
I put my head down and refused to look at the wall I’d slid down after getting that news. I made it past.
But a minute later, I started shaking in the hallway. A dear friend who works in the lab came down the hallway. I just hugged her and told her that I hadn’t been in there since the day Vance died. I cried while she hugged me and held me there in the hall.
After a few minutes she gently and kindly steered the conversation in a different direction, for which I am so thankful.
When the radiology tech came out the get me, she was also a friend. As we entered the mammography room (Because life after 40 means getting your boobs squeezed by a machine once a year. Good times!) she asked me how my day was. I answered honestly and told her that it was really hard to walk down that hallway. She, too, hugged me and let me cry.
Can I just say that there are some real perks to a small town? I mean, how many medical professionals can hug you right before arranging your naked boob and squeezing it to death and not have it be totally weird? Only in a small town.
When we were done, she walked me out through a different door, avoiding the ER and the difficult memories. May God bless her for that.
Some days, it’s the little things. Today it was three friends in just the places I needed them to be.