The past few weeks have provided me with ample opportunities to experience life beyond the boundaries of my comfort zone.The first experience occurred On December 31st as I spent the evening at a crammed emergency room with one of my children who had been diagnosed with pneumonia by the family doctor. Time in the waiting room flew by quickly as I was entertained by watching people come and go. It was not until I looked at my watch that I realized that we had spent a total of three hours before we were finally able to see a doctor. Once we saw a doctor, a diagnosis of bronchitis / borderline pneumonia was made and medication prescribed. We managed to make it home with time to spare and watch the ball drop from Times Square in New York City.

Crammed ER Waiting Room
The second experience occurred on December 2nd when I finally went to see a doctor about the nagging cough that I have had for several weeks. The doctor prescribed medication for bronchitis and sent me on my way. Saturday night my cough changed from “dry” to “wet” and I woke up on Sunday morning with no voice. I use my voice for a living. What would I do? I could not even utter a whisper. On Thursday January 10th I went in to have my voice checked and the doctor said I had walking pneumonia. I was given a different course of antibiotics. So for about seven days I had no voice. I communicated through gestures and writing in a notebook. My voice sort of reemerged on the seventh day. It is still not 100 percent but it is better than no voice. I am very careful to use my voice within its limits. My pneumonia has definitely cleared up.
The third experience occurred on Tuesday January 15th when I returned home from work to discover a partially flooded basement. This was due to the fact that we received a large amount of rain spread out over several days. The primary cause was the lack of rain gutters around the house. Ever since the roof was replaced this past summer, installing new rain gutters has been on my mind however I have procrastinated. As I dried off boxes, threw away things that I no longer needed, and vacuumed up water, I made it a point to call a handyman the next morning and get those gutters up as soon as possible.
The fourth experience began on Thursday January 17th. When I returned home from work, I discovered that my dog had what appeared to be a wound on the back of his neck. I examined it and it was in fact not a wound but inflammation of the skin with blood and pus oozing out. I had just taken the dog for a two-mile walk on Wednesday and none of this blood and pus were present. I took warm soapy water and washed the area as best as I could. The next morning we woke up to several inches of snow on the ground. School was closed so I spent the day at home and organized my closet. In the evening I gave the dog garlic and applied aloe vera to the hot spot hoping that would heal it. I woke up this morning and the area exuding with blood and pus on the back of the dog’s neck was expanding. It looked really bad. I hesitated and finally called up the vet’s office around 10 AM and explained what was going on. The receptionist told me to come on over and the vet would see him. I asked my oldest child to come with me.
We got the dog into the rear of the Jeep and headed off. As I drove, a rush of thoughts began to invade my mind. What if it is skin cancer? If it is cancer should I put the dog down? What if it is not skin cancer? How much is this vet visit going to cost? Maybe we should have never gotten this dog. Maybe I should give the dog away…I was definitely not at ease. My back and neck began to ache. As I continued to drive, I realized that my mind was reverting to an old tape loop of endless worry. How would I stop this old tape loop from succeeding and controlling me as in the past? We arrived at the vet’s office and near the front door was a sign that read “NO Credit or Debit Cards accepted”. I only had sixty dollars in my wallet. I decided to ignore this sign for the time being. The dog refused to enter the waiting area so we waited outside. After an hour or so, we were called inside. The dog refused to walk so I kept pulling and he sled into the examination room. The vet saw the dog and diagnosed him with moist dermatitis. I was relieved. The vet then shaved off hair in the affected area, gave him two injections, and prescribed a spray as well as antibiotics as the infection was internal. We left the room and the dog now decided to walk. I went up to the counter to pay and the total was $57 dollars. I then walked the dog over to a weighing scale and he weighed almost ninety pounds.
As we drove home, I began to ponder why was I having such a hard time accepting this particular situation with the dog? Why did I want to control its outcome? Why was I not open to all possibilities except for the one’s that I wanted? Why had that old tape loop surfaced and why was I having such a difficult time shutting it down? Why had I accepted the three other experiences mentioned above but had a difficult time with today’s experience with the dog? I have concluded that I am resisting life itself as it unfolds before me.
