This morning as I was sipping on my morning tea and browsing through my day-opener websites, the mental worry train started its journey. Why are my stocks dwindling? Why is the economy still plummeting? Why is my to do list getting longer? Why is life so hectic?
My wife then reminded me that we had an appointment with the doctor for our little girl. She had been getting some blue lumps on her body that kept appearing and disappearing - so we figured we should be getting some professional advice rather than just staring at those lumps and being intrigued.
While at the doctor's office, it was the doctor's expression that threw me off my emotional feet. He look puzzled and a little shaken. He then stepped outside the room to consult his colleague. His colleague came in after a while, took a look and said - "we are going to have a talk outside and will let you know what we think." As they were conferring with each other, my wife and I traded nervous looks. The doctor came back in and said - "We are going to order some blood tests, since we don't really know what it is." Now that the doctor did not have any answers, where do we go to find out? "Oh, it's going to be wait and watch game"; I thought - and it is going to be emotionally draining.
At the lab, they tried to find her vein, but in vain. With my wife waiting outside the room, I was forced to watch them pierce the needle into our three month old's arm and then search for a vein. It was like my heart being slowly cut with a butter knife. I was terribly worried, but helpless at the same time, so I stood my ground. The lab then referred us to another lab where they specialized in taking blood samples from infants. What? Couldn't you have told this before? Why does my baby have to be a statistic in your trial and error method? Those were questions in my head that never came out, given the circumstances that I was in. At the next lab, the technician went to get the blood sampling kit while I sat on a chair, holding my daughter tight and in position for the procedure.
"Hey there Delilah" by the plain white T's was playing in the background, acting as a catalyst to break up my mental courage. This technician did a much better job, but he had to a drain a lot of blood for all the tests prescribed by the doctor. As the syringe came off, blood poured out into my daughter's arm, my fingers and onto my shirt. It was at that time that my tear ducts reacted to what I had been feeling all along; and a man-tear fell out my left cheek. Under different circumstances, my wife would have said - "Oh, I thought you never teared up". But today was different, I just could not handle it - my daughter was crying at the top of her voice, looking straight into my eyes and probably puzzled why I let this happen to her and I was worried what might come out of these blood tests.
We drove back and there was not a word spoken between us - I am sure our minds were still parsing through the Google results we had seen earlier - cancer forums, tumor forums and links to various types of child cancer. Around dinner time, the doctor called and said - "I got the first round of results and everything looks normal; I am so glad that it is not
Leukemia that I had suspected." We had mixed emotions, but I think we felt lighter in our hearts.
The battle is only half won - we are still waiting for the second part of her blood results.
What does this teach me you ask? Well, I am happy with the small worries that I have in life and consider those a blessing now. The bigger ones, the ones that shake up my fundamental well being - I could do away with. So let your little worries prevail, since those are the thorns that support the sweet smelling, beautiful rose of a peaceful, happy and a healthy life.
