“Can I help you,” I hear someone ask as I walk into Northern Rehab, a bit visually overwhelmed by the amount of equipment
“Um yeah,” I replied peeking around a computer screen looking for the face belonging to the voice. “I am here for my appointment with Mike.”
“Mike?” the sweet receptionist asked with a questioningly look on her face. “Hmmm I don’t remember him having any appointments today.”
“Its to look at a car-seat for my daughter. A representative was supposed to meet with us. I could be at the wrong spot if you don’t have me showing up. It’s been one of those days.”
“Let me call him on his cell at the hospital.”
“Okay,” I replied as I check my phone to double check and make sure that I am at the right place with the right Mike.
“Oh you don’t remember any meeting set up? No car seat.” I can hear the receptionist talking as I scan my phone for Mike’s phone number.
And then I see it….Mike at WESTERN rehab…not Northern. Awesome!
“I am so sorry,” I immediately say. “I am at the wrong office.”
“Where are you supposed to be,”
“Yeah we are Northern Rehab.”
Yeah I got that. Thanks though!–I thought as I tried to as unembarrassed as possible thank her for her graciousness and left.
That was how my day started. Well it really started with a 45 minute fight with Itunes over whether or not it should allow me to put my music on my phone or not.
It won. I don’t have any music on my phone.
And a continued internal struggle over nursing. Over the care for my daughter. Over my heart still being a bit broken that I can’t hear her. That she can’t tell me…anything. My Ellie, my angel in the nursing field, would like to go down to 3 days a week instead of a full 5. And I get it. And I want her to because I don’t want to lose her 100% percent yet. I am not ready for that. So I had a new nurse yesterday and it wasn’t the same. And I had to retrain and I had to re-explain and re-explain and describe and have the don’t talk to me like that conversation only to have her talk to me like that.
And it sucked. I was pretty worn out by the time Charles and my mom got home. So we had the…should we stick with this nurse or should we try to find another nurse conversation. And it just made me sad. I wish I could just ask my daughter…what do you think of her. Is she kind? Is she loving? Do you like her? I would take 1 blink for yes and 2 blinks for no. I would take anything today to know what is on my daughters heart. To know what she thinks…what she feels. Anything to help me know and be confidant that I am doing right by her. That I am fighting the right fights and resting in the right things.
Some days you are just tired of filling in the blanks and fighting. I don’t want anybody in the medical community to think to think that I am not appreciative of what they do. I don’t want nurses to leave my home and think that was the worse experience. I also want my daughter to have a certain level of care. A standard. I want her to have the best while she is here. I want to get to heaven and hear her say to me….”you ran the race momma and you ran it well!” And that overwhelms me some days, this is a much bigger race then I could imagine. Not that I EVER imagined running this race.
So I stopped by Charles work on the way to the RIGHT medical rehab place. I just needed somewhere to lay my head. Somewhere to lean into and breathe…somewhere that felt like home. Somewhere to get a hug.
Not only did he hug me but he stepped away from his desk for an hour and looked at a car seat with me and then stopped by our nurses office and talked with our scheduling lady about our new nurse with me. He didn’t just hug me…he picked up some of the load with me and walked with me. And I needed it. And in that moment, he was the perfect example of how the Lord’ does. He just doesn’t hug us, he stops what he is doing and carries the load with us. He goes with us to silly appointments and to have conversation we don’t really want to have. And He does all of that because he loves us and never leaves us. And I couldn’t be more grateful.
Because sometimes you just have to get a hug.