Today the boyo is having his first ever hot lunch at school. He is so excited and is even willing to miss out on peanut butter and jelly to eat the school offering. Trying to get him to eat anything but PBJ's for lunch has been a challenge, and even when we ask him what he'd like for supper his answer is often PBJ's.
So this morning I have a little time to write that would ordinarily be spent fixing a lunch.
I reflected on how the recent medical fun could have gone for me. Surgery, colostomy bag, more surgery, long hospital stays, maybe even (extreme, I know) death. It could have been so much worse. On my return visit to the doc, he told me there is a 1 in 5 chance that this will happen again. And if it does happen sooner rather than later, I'll probably have to have the surgery and all the rest. Except the death, I hope. I'd really like to avoid that. I could have elective surgery that would take the risk down to 3- 5%. But that would require surgery, which I really want to avoid. So I'm hoping to be one of the 4 out of 5 people that it does NOT happen to again!
I thought about the interesting notion of transitioning from a health care worker to being a patient. Just the sort of patient that I have sometimes picked up and transported. And for the briefest moment I was a little saddened by the prospect. But then I remembered I am also transitioning from calling myself a Paramedic as a job, to calling myself a Knifemaker, or an Artist, for a job. Switching vocations, learning new things. Watching my kiddos grow up.
Life is full of transitions. Some pretty lousy. But many more very exciting and fun. I suppose the lesson I need to learn is to accept the transitions and be able to appreciate the experience of each one.
Still, I'm a little sad sending my little boy to school without a packed lunch.