On occasion, I worry about the dirty dishes cascading out of the sink. (Usually I wait until Mister does them. He’s pretty good at dishes.)
Sometimes I worry about the nasty smell coming from the refrigerator. (It’s probably the chicken gone bad.)
Now and again I worry about Bunder’s demands to dress himself. (He refuses to wear anything I suggest.)Occasionally, I worry about the unidentifiable, green blob stuck in the tiny crevices of the highchair.
Other times I worry about the long list of e-mails I have to send, or phone calls I have to make, or errands I have to run.
On Wednesday, I caught a glimpse of REAL anxiety. I worried about something infinitely more important than the meaningless list above.
I lived those clichés this week. I watched my son turn terrifyingly pale and limp in my arms as he struggled to breathe. Without a doubt, it was the scariest moment of my life. It even topped Bunder’s entrance to the world when the surgeon screamed in the midst of my emergency C-section, “Oh, shit! Oh, shit! Get Dr. Hayes STAT!”
Thankfully, we were at Dr. Joe’s office when Bunder’s breathing problems escalated . I cannot begin to describe how amazing Dr. Joe and his staff were during this most petrifying time. Everyone stayed calm, did exactly what needed to be done, and moved like a well-practiced team. I can hear Dr. Joe saying, “Well, of course. That’s our job.”
It goes beyond that – Nurse T grabbed my car keys, ran out to my car, and retrieved Bunder’s car seat, after dumping the animal crackers and raisins from it. (Did you know they use car seats inside ambulances?) Nurse M and Dr. Joe attended to Bunder and reassured me all while completing his chart and updating the paramedics.
Once at the hospital, Dr. Joe, called me and called the doctor on call. Nurse T drove my car back to our house with Kiki’s car seat in it, so Mister could pick us up from the hospital. (Can you imagine? A doctor’s office and a car service all in one?)
Bunder’s doing much better. His spirits are high (partly due to the meds he’s taking). He keeps asking me, “Mommy, do you remember our big adventure in the ambulance?”
As if I’ll ever forget! I realize in the coming weeks, the daily tasks of a stay-at-home-mom with two toddlers will overwhelm me. I hope in those moments of anxiety I can stop, say a prayer, and remember what’s truly important.
“Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble,” Matthew 6:34