If worrying were an Olympic event I would win the gold. I would win the gold every 4 years probably until I died and then there would be a statue made in my likeness because I am so good at worrying. I would write books on how to worry and how to improve your worrying skills. Yes, I would be rich and famous all for how well I worry.
At first I thought I was good at hiding it until I started hearing Laura comment on me worrying. Why bother hiding it. I should wear it proudly. YES world I am a worrier.
According to Webster's dictionary the definition for worrying is ....
to feel or experience concern or anxiety : fret
Yup, that's what I do alright and all right.
Gracie is getting her tonsils out along with her adenoids and having tubes put in her ears. So of course I am worrying.
When she was 15 months old she had trouble breathing. We spent the night in the ER and she was admitted to the hospital by 6 a.m. the following morning. The doc came in and told me if she continued to struggle the way she was she would be transferred to the teaching hospital he was affiliated with. She seemed to be getting a little better. Scott came by and told me to go home and shower. I felt funny leaving but I did. While I was gone Gracie felt so relaxed laying in her daddy's arms that she took a deep breath in and let it all out and then forget to breath in again. All Scott remembers is alarms going off and the the doc and nurses rushing in. All I remember is the sound of the helicopter taking her away. Following that helicopter was the longest half hour drive I've ever driven.
Obviously Grace is fine now. And I know in my heart she will be fine Wednesday evening when the surgery is over. Until then I will sharpen my worry skills and say extra prayers.
1 comment:
You're a really good mom.
Post a Comment