"Alright Amy, looks like we have everything under control with your meds. We will put you back under care of your Dr. back home."
"Great, that is such great news."
"But, there's one more thing Amy. The next step is, well, I want you to work hard on losing weight."
You could have a heard a pin drop. I tried not to glance at my sister sitting beside me for fear that a tear might slide down my face. I took a deep breath.
"Okay, I will try my best" I heard it come out of my mouth, but it didn't even feel like me responding.
"I know this is hard for you, I'm hoping now that we got your thyroid right, that maybe that will help."
I shook my head. My mind in a blur. I got up and walked out of the room. My sister was quiet, because she knew the pain that had always plagued me where weight was concerned.
It had been a long 1 1/2 years since it all began. A simple surgery that ended in a bout of heart failure. I'd been trying ever since to get back to normal. To feel better, to get my thyroid back on track, to stop swelling, to be able to make it home and not have to take a 2 hour nap just to make it to bedtime. And now, the only thing left to do was to lose weight.
To some, it may sound simple. Most people who think it sounds easy probably have never had a weight problem, or who seriously overate and could just cut back. Neither of these have been my plight.
Dr said, "Well, you have a predisposition to be overweight. Your height certainly isn't working in your favor. And your thyroid.."
Did he just call me a smurf?
No, he just called me short.
As we walked out to the car, she put her arm around me, gave me a squeeze and said I'm sorry Ame. But you can do it.
She's right. I can do it.
This is my Goliath.
And I will fight it, one stone at a time.
1 Samuel 17:49 David put his hand in his bag, took out a stone, slung it, and struck the Philistine on his forehead; the stone sank into his forehead, and he fell face down on the ground.
16 August 2011
01 August 2011
Kiss from a Stranger
It was Friday afternoon. The hustle and bustle of the week was dying down, and really I was just looking forward to summer early dismissal. As I went downstairs to the main desk to drop off mail that was ready to be sent, I saw a familiar figure slumped over on the couch. I knew this face well. He frequented the food pantry, he walked into the church regularly to be loved on, and he basically owned the corner where I got on and off the expressway each day. He loved it when I got stopped by the red light, as he'd jaunt over and talk my ear off for 30 seconds before the green light beckoned me. Anytime he'd see my car, he would smile that toothless grin and wave, his eyes smiling. He was another statistic of our city. High school drop out. Recovering addict. Homeless. Full of love in his heart.
His age was hard to tell, but I found out as the ambulance arrived on that sunny afternoon he was 51. Wow, I would have guessed 40. He was having trouble breathing. His face had fallen to an ashen gray, and the wheezing that occurred with each painful breath filled the empty space around him. He was hungry. Our front desk manager had taken good care of him, offered him a cool place to sit, and brought him some snacks. I fixed him a can of ravioli, and went upstairs to get him a powerade. The food was gone before I even came back, less than a minute later. But the labored breathing continued. Suffering from COPD and Asthma, he was rather used to this problem. He couldn't stand up. They took great care of him as they strapped him onto the gourney and wheeled him out. "Get better, you hear?" I said softly.
Come Monday morning, a somewhat quiet and serene place in the summers. Arriving at work, I got down to the usual grind. But then my phone rang. I had a visitor waiting for me at the front desk. As I descended the stairs, I saw that familiar face. Grinning. A beautiful sight. His face full of color. He came bounding toward me with his arms held open. With that, he planted a big wet kiss on my cheek, and hugged me. "Thank you Miss Amy. I'm feeling so much better now and I just wanted you to know. I'm coming in to get food tomorrow so I'll see you then. I gotta go to school today. I'm finishing up getting my GED. Gonna make something of myself Miss Amy, and you're gonna be real proud." Well kiddo, I already am. Yep, already am.
His age was hard to tell, but I found out as the ambulance arrived on that sunny afternoon he was 51. Wow, I would have guessed 40. He was having trouble breathing. His face had fallen to an ashen gray, and the wheezing that occurred with each painful breath filled the empty space around him. He was hungry. Our front desk manager had taken good care of him, offered him a cool place to sit, and brought him some snacks. I fixed him a can of ravioli, and went upstairs to get him a powerade. The food was gone before I even came back, less than a minute later. But the labored breathing continued. Suffering from COPD and Asthma, he was rather used to this problem. He couldn't stand up. They took great care of him as they strapped him onto the gourney and wheeled him out. "Get better, you hear?" I said softly.
Come Monday morning, a somewhat quiet and serene place in the summers. Arriving at work, I got down to the usual grind. But then my phone rang. I had a visitor waiting for me at the front desk. As I descended the stairs, I saw that familiar face. Grinning. A beautiful sight. His face full of color. He came bounding toward me with his arms held open. With that, he planted a big wet kiss on my cheek, and hugged me. "Thank you Miss Amy. I'm feeling so much better now and I just wanted you to know. I'm coming in to get food tomorrow so I'll see you then. I gotta go to school today. I'm finishing up getting my GED. Gonna make something of myself Miss Amy, and you're gonna be real proud." Well kiddo, I already am. Yep, already am.
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