Give a Little, Get a Little

Today did not work out like I'd planned.

When I crawled into bed last night, I thought I'd get up early.
Start making the apple pie at 7am.
Bake it from 8 to 9am.
Let it cool from 9 to 10am while I took my shower and got ready for the day.
Get to the church around 10:45, deliver the pie.
Go to the funeral mass for one of my fellow Quilters, Kathleen.
Spend the rest of the afternoon working on a time line for a friend of mine.
Take Jodie to the orthodontist.
Have dinner plans ready for Dale, then spend a quiet evening reading.

Instead ...

I got a phone call at 6:30am. I wasn't out of bed yet and barely made it to the phone before the answering machine started taking a message.
"Margaret? Can you take me to the ER?"
"I'll be right there."

This call from my friend Susan, also from Quilters. She hasn't been feeling well for several days. I helped get her some meds yesterday, so knew she was in pain. But I've never heard her this bad. She lives a ways away, in a teeny tiny country town about a half hour north of here. I get lost almost every time I try to find her house.

So I threw on some clothes. Grabbed a protein bar. Put a hat over my bedhead hairdoo. Picked up a book (I figured there'd be a lot of 'hurry up and wait' today). And ran out the door.

Fog. Thick, thick fog. Frozen fog on the car windows. So I started the engine, dug out the ice scraper, and attacked the windows. All the time, I'm praying that I can be the help Susan needs me to be today.

The fog did not let up. I could only see about a half block in front of the car. Tricky on the freeway. And those 2-lane country roads where the center line is barely visible, the lines on the shoulders of the roads obscured by snow and ice ... scary. On the prairie, I had to wait for a freight train to pass. I slowed my speed on the curvy, icy lake road. Got to her house without getting lost, for a change. She was surprised and pleased I'd made such good time.

Poor gal was really hurting. I just tried to be calm and steady for her. Got her to the hospital (they have valet parking for emergency room guests now!) Helped her check in, change into a hospital gown, settle onto the gurney.

Mostly, I hung out as moral support. I can't even watch as she gets shots. I'm that squeamish. So I cracked jokes. Helped her feel as normal as possible. Told stories. Listened when she wanted to talk. Sat silently when she needed quiet. Covered her when she was cold. Steadied her when she stood. Learned how to operate a wheel chair. Learned about her allergies to medications.

When she was released, I helped her get her prescriptions. Let her read my book to pass time. Picked up a dessert at my house and dropped it off at the funeral, letting the rest of the Quilters know why we missed the mass and that Susan will be OK. Drove back up to her tiny town. The fog never did lift. Treated myself to some take-out on the way home. Ate for the first time someplace around 1:30pm.

I totally forgot about Jodie's orthodontist appointment until she called me from school. Back out into the fog. We were only 4 minutes late. A fast stop at the grocery store. A quick trip to the bathroom.

And then I collapsed.

Yeah. Not exactly the day I'd planned. Much more emotionally exhausting -- even more exhausting than going to a funeral!

But you know what?

As tiring as it was, there was also an element of peace to it. For a nice change of pace, I was offered the chance to help out one of my friends at a time when the help really counted. I stepped a bit out of my comfort zone to do it. I drove in the fog. I drove to a place where I usually get lost. I dealt with the medical community. I picked up prescriptions at a pharmacy I don't usually use.

That was a very 'Plan B' kind of day for this 'I like a List' kind of gal!

And within that go-with-the-flow motion, I offered Susan a little peace.

Driving through the fog on the way home, I experienced a bit of peace, too.