Perspective

I got a wake up call today at the doctor's office.

I had been frustrated beyond frustrated because my ankle has been hurting me so badly I can't train.  After talking with my coach, I headed over to the sports medicine doctor to make sure it is not a stress fracture (still waiting for an MRI...so no news yet, but my fingers are crossed).

It had been a crazy morning with the girls, they squeezed me in an appointment at 12:15 right after preschool so I had no time to make lunch.  I had to make do with the drive through.  The girls did a good job making a ginormous mess with their food in the car, and a not so good job eating their food.  

I even bribed them good behavior with milkshakes.  Which despite my best efforts, both Georgia and Tillie ended up with milkshake all over themselves, especially their hair.

We all walk into the office looking a bit dis-shelved.  Like we had been been through a freaking tornado.  Me included...leaking my own milk and milkshake down the front of my jeans.

There is a woman sitting there.  Looking very, very ill and very young.  She says many nice words to me in a very weak voice about how beautiful we are and how blessed I am.  Then she says, "I am not contagious, I have cancer...can I please hold your baby?"

"Of course!" I tell her...please hold her as long as you want.  Partly because I didn't want to deal with her fussing because she was getting hungry and partly because I needed a free hand to wipe up my other kids.

At first I didn't pay much attention Liza and the woman with cancer, but as soon as things settled down I looked over and  she was just resting her head on Liza's as she sat there completely content...not even a squirm.

I got called back to the room, and the receptionist told me if it was okay, she would bring Liza back to me once the woman was done holding her.

I asked the PT who the woman was and how old she is, what kind of cancer she had (it was obvious she was visiting and was not a patient).  The PT told me she used to work in the office and has stage 4 breast cancer....and she is 28.  28.  Married, but no kids, and she desperately wants them.

She held Liza for about 30 minutes of  the appointment, Liza ended up falling asleep in her lap.   And then it just got too emotional for her.  The receptionist ended up taking Liza and bringing her back to me.  As she brought her back she told me that letting this woman hold my baby meant more to her then I will ever know.  

I guess I can stop freaking out about my ankle...and my messy kids.