Be careful what you wish for . . .

My parents used to remind me on a frequent, sometimes daily, basis, “Be careful what you wish for,” with the caveat “you just might get it.” Of course, there were other times when they would say, “Wish in one hand and spit in the other. See which one gets full faster.” Of course, Walt Disney constantly reminded us, “When you wish upon a star . . . .”

What a dilemma of mixed messages to a child! As I grew older I began reading books like The Secret (Rhonda Byrnes) and Law of Attraction (Abraham-Hicks). More confusion. Why didn’t a million dollars show up on my doorstep like it did for the authors? Recently I’ve been learning how to use the power of attraction in small ways, but not always with the results I had in mind.

A couple weeks ago that came to my attention in a startling way.
Two weeks ago I became dizzy and nauseated at work. It was a very hot day and I had not slept well the previous night so was not concerned. After sitting in his office a few minutes my supervisor called Health Services. Envisioning a short nap and back to work, I said yes.

Two hunky young men came, asked a few questions then pushed me up the hill to Health Services. Because the hill was steep and I weigh a bit more than I should, they ran up the hill. Whoo Hoo! This was the fastest ride I’d had in the park for several years.

Once there an aid remarked several times about the puffiness under my eyes. I told her it was a lack of sleep and old age, but she didn’t buy it. After a while they discharged me to my daughter’s care and told me to see my primary provider. I called for an appointment and was told to go straight to the ER. Why? Just go.

Once in the ER I was allowed to don a fashionable, faded gown that had a portion missing. Then a gurney ride down the hall that was more exciting than the wheel chair ride, just as fast and more obstacles. Soon I had a plug installed in my inner elbow, just in case it was needed later. Soon a nice young cardiologist arrived and determined I needed a heart catheterization.

The next evening I was wired to the first plug and another one. The doctor threaded a mini-camera from my groin to my heart. I could see something that appeared about 4” long twitching and leaping. I knew it was an artery or vein moving as my heart beat. Later I told the nurse that I saw something that appeared to be a praying mantis jumping around. She said, “There was no praying mantis. You were drunk.” I guess nurses aren’t into metaphors.

The absolutely worst part was an intravenous bag that kept filling me with fluids but the nurses wouldn’t allow me to use the bathroom. I’d awaken with urgencies and automatically sit up. An alarm blared like I was breaking into a bank vault. Four nurses would run into the room yelling at me to use the buzzer. I’m supposed to break 60+ years of training in five minutes? A little later loud shouting disturbed my slumber. It turned out that a man got up to use the bathroom and wandered into someone else’s room.

Finally, morning arrived and the nurses disconnected me from all the tubes and told me I could actually use the potty. Ahhhh, luxury! After that joy and brushing my teeth I went for a short walk down the hall trying to hold the gown together, hoping the other occupants would not be treated to the sight of my pasty-white nether regions flapping in the wind. Ah, a flash of insight! Back in my room I donned my work shorts that were tucked away for my trip home. New confidence. The second lap was much more fun than the first. The gown could flap all it wanted and I didn’t care.

The hospitalist arrived and said I could go home. No damage to heart, but the new medicine schedule included additions, subtractions, increases and decreases.

When my daughter arrived to drive me home, I whined about my situation. She stopped me short, saying, “Mom, you said you wanted a few days off work.”

July 1, 2014