The leg with new knee, swollen with angry red ankle cried, “not normal” to Scott at PT, so on his word, plus my concerns, I headed to the doctor two days ago.
After a series of delays and lunch with friends to celebrate Dick’s birthday, I drove to Beverly Hospital for an ultrasound. Hearing the nurse say, “stat and clot” when scheduling, upped the ante.
Before heading to the hospital I called Heather and Chad, then packed a few things in my oversized purse, just in case I had to stay overnight:
a romance novel (I like happily ever after.)
toothbrush and paste
face cream (anti-aging!)
phone with cord
change of underwear
pens in various colors of ink
and funeral notes!
My kids have been after me to help them out with some ideas.
I have a few but most don’t relate to funerals.
Valet parked at hospital and learned, “stat” works. Rushed to radiology like a celebrity, with potential clots.
Nothing like hearing blood gurgling through veins while the ultrasound technicians use their skills, then learning, “No clots!”
I was free to head home, watch the Red Sox win another game and add the funeral notes to my stack of unfinished business.
Today, I reread a prayer by Eugene Peterson in Harold Myra’s One Year Book of Encouragement (June 10th entry).
“God of all beginnings and all endings, I bring all my unfinished business to you——everything that I started and couldn’t finish, all that I began but lost interest in, all that I began in hope and quit in despair. Make finished work of it all, by your grace. Amen.”
A good prayer at a funeral.
I’ll add that to their notes.
By your Grace,
this day, Sweet Jesus.
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