mari4ubackupblog: One Day at a Time . . .

When I was in the hospital, time seemed to exist in another dimension. I felt like I was in some sort of alternate world, somewhere in between a dream and reality. I would look out of the window from the 8th floor, and I would see the world below me. There were storms, lightning, rain, and sun . . . all existing on the other side of the thick glass. I could see people walking around into stores, and jobs, and life -- just going about their day. I could see the people below -- like watching my own personal reality TV show. I could see them, but I wondered, "Did they ever look up at the hospital, and think about who might be on the 8th floor?" I know I never did. In the outside world there was life and action and beauty. There were swaying trees, changing weather, and wonderful fresh smells. In my inside world, there were beeping machines, IV's, shots, wires, and flashing lights. There was blood, needles, bandages, oxygen masks, and pain. Two very different worlds, separated only by glass and brick. I know I will never look at the hospital the same again. It is full of stories, full of people. It is full of life, death, illness, healing. If you are ever feeling low . . . take a trip to the hospital and just hang out in the lobby, and watch the people for awhile. It will not take long for gratitude to settle into your heart. I know I have felt immense gratitude wash over me as I walked the halls of the hospital, grateful for my trials.

My view from the 8th Floor

While in my "inside world," I learned many valuable lessons. As I was waiting for Henry to come out of his surgery, they sent all sorts of professionals my way. One of the ladies that came to my room was a social worker -- wondering how I was holding up. I was honestly fine, just super tired. I kept thinking, "If people would just leave me alone, and let me rest, I would be GREAT!" I wanted to have a quiet moment while Henry was in surgery, so I could pray and ponder, peacefully. Instead I had the breast-feeding Nazis show up to instruct me how to use the cow-pump. I was really irritated at that point. I just wanted some peace, NOT how-to-cow instructions. I think my irritation was starting to show through, too -- the lady looked a little nervous. I was probably scowling at her. Poor girl. In my defense, I was still on drugs, having Alice and Wonderland type of hallucinations. Look at the pretty talking flowers . . .

Even the social worker was getting on my nerves. However, she was kind and thoughtful, so I smiled and nodded, most of the time. She asked me how I was doing and I said, "I am just taking it one day at a time." She said that is "good," but she recommended breaking it down even smaller than that . . . one moment at a time, one meal at a time, one minute at a time. At first I thought she was crazy. Taking it one day at a time was hard enough for me! I am a future seeker, I anticipate things to come. I have a REALLY hard time living "in the moment". I want to know all about tomorrow!

But being in the hospital for awhile forced me to slow down. I had no choice but to take it as it came. I had no control over what was happening, or even my schedule. All I could do was go through the motions, as life came at me . . . what a fabulous lesson to learn. Slow down, look around, breath, take in the moment. Just BE.

Since then I have been better at enjoying the moment. I have also been able to say to myself, "Let it go." "Not right now.""It can be done later." There have been times where I felt I should be cleaning or cooking, or doing something, and instead I just sleep. It is fantastic. I can feel the knots in my stomach loosening. Let the stress go . . . breath in, breath out. Enjoy life. What's the hurry, anyway? Got a hot date with death? Not me.

Sometimes you just need to slow down, and soak in the moment . . . for they pass all too quickly.