It was an ordinary Monday. Our family plans included work, errands and a math quiz. My son headed off to the bus stop. His swim bag packed for practice after school. Dad went into work early. And I left with a car full of donations and my grocery list. An ordinary Monday. Or so we thought.
So when the school’s number popped up on my phone, my heart skipped a beat. It was my son calling from the nurse’s office. I could hear in his voice he didn’t feel well. His stomach hurt. I asked all the usual mom questions and drove to pick him up.
Why I’ll Never Win Mother of the Year
He hunched his back and held his stomach as we walked to the car. The nurse mentioned he was like that all morning, unable to get comfortable. It turns out I didn’t answer the first time he called. Nor did two other emergency contacts. He waited and the pain got worse.
“How was your quiz?” I asked. “Are you stressed about it?” “Nervous about the musical tryouts?” It had to be stress right? In middle schoolers, you assume everything is nerves.
Unless it’s appendicitis.
I wish I had figured it out that quickly. But there are good reasons I will never win Mother of the Year. With wise counsel from a dear friend and trusting my gut, I took him to the doctor. And then to the ER, followed by an ambulance ride to the children’s hospital and 24 hours later, we were home. Minus one appendix.
So why am I still nervous? Why does it give me anxiety to watch him walk to the bus stop?
Because I almost waited. Appendicitis is rare right? In the hospital, the nurses echoed, “It’s so good you caught it early.” Great. But I almost didn’t. I thought “probably gastrointestinal distress.” At one point, the ER thought the same thing, until it wasn’t.
This Ordinary Monday was Different
I’ve experienced a lot of ordinary Mondays in my life. Activities, meetings, conference calls, and an over-scheduled mess filled our weeks for years. But thankfully this Ordinary Monday was different. I’m different. My values are different or at least now they really mean something. I’m living them.
Early Tuesday morning, my son went into surgery for an appendectomy. And this time he was nervous. So was I, but I held it together until they wheeled him away.
“He’s in. Now we wait.” Read the text message.
In the waiting room, my husband wisely took my hands and led me to a low lit space where we waited and prayed.
During a crisis, we question everything. And I was going crazy waiting, thinking and over-thinking. So instead I journaled. As I replayed the day, I realized my values reflected my priorities. There was comfort in seeing the values in action.
Faith
The comfort of prayers surrounded us during Zack’s surgery. We had faith knowing God was in control and with us through it all.
Family
I dropped everything and picked him up from school immediately. As a mom, I often second guess myself, but once in a while, I get it right. That day, I was focused on him. I cleared my calendar without apology. No distractions. In my past life, I would have tried to do it all. Conference calls. Emails. No more.
Friends
The most amazing thing happens when your family is in crisis. Your friends rise up. Your village reaches out in droves and the text messages are coming so fast you can’t keep up.
Even your friends’ children worry. And they cry too. Then, they make plans to visit. And feed your cat without you asking. They drive your second car home from the hospital and lend you their shoes. They do this because they love you. And if the roles were reversed, you would do the same. Grateful doesn’t even begin to describe how I felt.
Health
As we answered questions about our son’s health and ours, we found out how important it was to a successful outcome. He eats well. As a swimmer, he has strong lungs which are an asset in surgery. His health would mean he could recover more easily. Even in illness, our wellness prepares our body for recovery.
Generosity
Being generous is one of the greatest benefits of a simple life. But sitting on the receiving end of generosity blessed my family beyond words.
When news of my son’s illness spread, our phones blew up. Although the entire ordeal ended in 24 hours, there was no shortage of care and love for our family. The group text grew beyond 25 and I still missed people. As he recovers, they continue to reach out.
But here’s what I know. Giving your time, even just a text message, means the world to someone. It did to me.
I like Ordinary
Life is ordinary again but even in the chaos of last week, it remained simple. Because living our values made it a little bit easier.
So, I’ll take all the Ordinary Mondays I can get. And when the days are anything but ordinary, we can weather it. There’s a better way. I think I found it.
Leave a Reply