I really don't like going to the Dr. Any Dr.

Eye, Teeth, bones, internal, whatever...I don't like it. I think it may be my feeling of helplessness or out of control-ness that bothers me.

However, I've had this appt. for some time. So, there I sit yesterday in the waiting room. I thought about picking up a magazine and looking through it, but do you realize how many very sick people have been in this room looking, touching, coughing on those magazines? So, I decide against touching any more than I ablsolutely had to.

They called me in quickly...which always gives me false hope. Once they get me in that tiny-no-windows-no-air room, it takes an eternity for the Dr. to finally show up. By the time she does, I usually need so desperately to get out of there, I forget why I came in the first place.

Yesterday was different. The Dr. came in within about 5 minutes...a record! I usually wait almost an hour in that tiny-little-no-windows-no-air room.

I tell her about the cough that won't go away, the shoulders that hurt more than what I think is normal, the need for a stronger "water" pill, my refusal to take my potassium pills because since taking them I've gained 8 lbs, and finally, my desire to remove a couple of moles that are bugging me. (This is way more than you bargained for, isn't it? Sorry.)

And, before she can talk, I say, "How is your daughter?" I happen to know her daughter is going to the middle school that feeds into the same High School my son is at. It's for gifted, bright kids who happen to love and have apptitude for all things math/science/computer related.

She stops, pulls up a chair very close to mine, and sits down in a bit of a slump. With tears and some giggling (that's how Mom's handle stress sometimes) she tells me of an incident that happened this week. We talk...she asks me questions about how to handle certain attitudes and changes in her daughter...(like I really have any answers)...I feel my emotions get the best of me while I watch this Dr. turn Mom before my eyes. I try to assure her that most of what they are experiencing is normal and will get better. (actually, it will get worse, then it will get better but she didn't need to know that ).

Then, I decide I need to just give her my best advice...

"Listen", I said, "at the risk of offending you and your intelligence, I'm going to tell you that my very best advice to you is to hand this girl over to Jesus. Every day, pray for her, love her unconditionally, and pray for her again. I have decided that I don't know what I'm doing, except for the grace and mercy and direction of God. So, my advice is...prayer."

I didn't know exactly how she would take it. She looked at me and said, can you pray for me right now? We did.

I had X-rays, blood taken, medication given, advice about my different ailments from a very intelligent Dr.

When I left, she was standing at a counter writing in my chart. I patted her on the shoulder and said "Thank you." She turned around, gently took my wrist and hugged me and said..."No, Thank You."

And to think, I almost cancelled that appointment.