Life in the Herd

The other day I had a doctor’s appointment. I don’t really enjoy going to the doctor’s. I usually try to put it off as long as possible.  But the day finally arrived and I found myself sitting in the waiting room, wondering how long it would take to get into her office.   Turns out, it didn’t take that long after all. Just long enough for me to read all the warnings about H1N1 and how to use the antibacterial hand sanitizer. Then I heard the receptionist call my name.

I followed her like a puppy to the room where I would meet the doc.  But before this would take place something so awful and dreaded happened.

Receptionist: You can put your belongings in this room.

Me: Great! Thanks.

Receptionist: When you’re done doing that, you can come over here and get weighed.

(If you hadn’t guessed, that was the awful and dreaded part.)

Me (hyperventilating):  Um, okay.
 
I thought rapidly what other things I could shed before I had to step on the scale of doom.  I tried to talk myself down from the ledge I felt I was standing on.  “You take care of yourself”, I say to me.  “You exercise (when the kids aren’t sick, or I’m not sick or I don’t have another engagement).  You eat right (pretty proud of that one – quit baking in the last six months and very rarely buy chips anymore!) drink eight glasses of water a day, take your vitamins.”  I have to say, it almost threw me into cardiac arrest and I seriously hoped the receptionist knew CPR.   I shut my eyes and stepped onto the apparatus in front of me.  She was so very fast about it I could not even see the numbers and for this I was extremely grateful.  It was like a gift.  I then proceeded back to the room in which my things were and waited patiently for the doctor to enter the room.  As I waited I came up with all kinds of responses, retaliations and excuses that I might use in case she made any reference to my weight.  She didn’t.

When she walked in she asked me how many children I have, gave me a once over and pronounced me healthy as a horse. That was it, over in seconds, or maybe three minutes.

This morning as I was thinking about the appointment with relief, I thought about the people of Haiti, thousands without basic medical care, if any at all.  I thought about the mothers and fathers, the homeless, the orphaned.  Instead of worrying about how well they eat, they are wondering if they will eat anything at all today.  Instead of trying to convince someone they drink enough water, they are wondering when clean water will come.  Instead of having a room to put their belongings in, they have rubble for a home and only the clothing on their back.  Instead of asking mothers how many children they have, they are being asked are any children still alive.  Instead of being pronounced healthy many are dying in the streets needlessly.

I think about the families that have been torn apart, the lives that have been decimated by this catastrophic event. I think what if that were me and my family? Life as I knew it destroyed in minutes.
  
I also think of the amazing stories of hope that have come out of absolute destruction, the praises and prayers that have been lifted up in the streets of Haiti. I think of orphans that are being untied with new families. I think of people who are risking their lives for folks they do not know. I think of the incredible resilience of the human spirit and how much we need each other to be there for us. I think of how much we need love.
 
So today, as you think about your own family, your friends, neighbours, people around you I want to encourage you to love like there is no tomorrow.  Grab ‘em, hold ‘em, hug ‘em.  Tell them that there’s no one quite like them in your life.