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Wednesday, December 31, 2014

On understanding Eeyore and on being invisible

 This is my maternal great grandmother.  I've always thought I looked a bit like her.  She looks so melancholy.  She died many years before I was born, when she was only in her 50's and my grandfather was only 16 years old.

 Here's me, about 2 1/2 or 3 years old.  Even then I couldn't quit thinking.

Then there's Eeyore.  He can't quit thinking either and he's feeling melancholy, too.  Not to mention, invisible. 

I had another invisible moment recently.  It was actually while I was in the hospital.  I had shuffled into the emergency room, walking softly, to avoid jarring my painful innards, wearing my flannel jammy pants.  (Just FYI, I am only seen in public in flannel jammy pants when in dire didn't see me, did you???)  Anyhow, the nurse came to collect me, promptly led me to the actual emergency area, handed me a 'sample' cup and pointed me towards the restroom.  Just before she shut the door, she stared at my feet, hesitated, and then asked, "What size are your feet?"   In my poor befuddled state I was trying to decide what bearing my shoe size would have on the pain in my stomach.  I hesitatingly told her size 7,  and she informed me that she had a pair of new shoes that she couldn't wear and that my feet looked just the right size.  ('re telling me this while I stand here in pain?) 
Then she decides that my husband can answer medical questions on my behalf, so she shuts the bathroom door and off they go.  By the time I got out of the bathroom, there was no one in sight.  I'm an introvert and always feel a bit awkward in strange situations.  I was beginning to feel a bit sorry for myself.  After all, I was the patient!  Where is the sympathetic crew to pat my hand and croon over me?  Nope, no one in sight. Even the desk person had left.  I finally listened and realized that down the hall I could hear my husband's voice so I shuffled along until I found the correct cubicle.  Sigh.

Well, now I'm at home, recuperating nicely.  My Ebay store has gone crazy, so I have plenty to do while finishing up my recovery.  I always figure there's a lesson in everything and no doubt several in my recent health experiences.  I'm seeing the other side of the coin in a small way - from being a caregiver to being cared for.  Of course, I don't need much care, but it definitely looks different being on this side.  I'm getting a a glimpse into how frustrating it is to not be able to do all you once did, dependent on others in many ways.

Once again, I'm grateful to the Lord for seeing me through and for giving me new insight into caring for my aging mother, who, by the way, has never found me to be invisible.  She has always been my cheering squad,  my staunch supporter, always watching out for me.  Even now as she makes her way to the living room, dragging her oxygen cord along,  she says to me as I am folding some laundry, "Should you be doing that?"

Cherish each  moment you have with your loved ones and do your best to be patient with the sick & elderly.  Don't make them feel invisible. (I think I'm back to being melancholy again!)


  1. Happy New Year to you and your family, Hilly. I had that dreaded DV once about ten years ago. No fun whatsoever! Where it came from, I do not know but I am glad it has never come back.

    1. And a Happy New Year to you and yours as well! Thank you for the word of encouragement....Glad to hear yours hasn't returned, hopefully neither will mine!

  2. I am happy you are on the mend from DV.
    I can just hear your mom ask you that....
    You DO look like your maternal grandmother! That is an adorable picture of you....and it certainly represents the way you are, today.
    I am very grateful for my family and always let them know. I am also grateful for good friends. ;)