As I was sanding, sanding, and sanding this evening, I was thinking about what I should write tonight on the blogaroo. There were a few options, of which I remember these: Carl (obvious choice), the blue-eyed, smiling stranger (I should blog about nice strangers bc I have a few stories), how three is really not ever a good number for friends...more on that, yardsale finds, and how perfect PiePie is. Yeah. I know.
Carl: Surgery was scheduled for today. Got up, got out the door, got a call that although he had been wheeled away for a 4-6 hour surgery, not 30 minutes later, he was being wheeled back into the room, sans surgery. Seems that someone else's situation was more-terrible-er than his. (Good thing, right, if you're Carl??? Not sure bout that one, LOL.) So, we did an about-face. Took the LouAnn to school. Started towards Nashville. Got a little side-tracked, and ended up meandering around backroads until we *finally* got to the hospital. We talked, we browsed, we ate, and we talked. Did I mention that we talked? I love that we talk. Ok...back to Carl. He is not in much pain right now, finally. That is the good news. Oh-and he slept today, to the point that he snored. (It's about time.) The not-as-good news is that when he is awake, as patients who are given the drugs he has been being given tend to do, he hallucinates. He's seen his grandkids on the ceiling. He's asked if Makayla brought his pencil back. He's told Barb that she needed to call Mark, because *he* would come and get him out of that place. He's laughed at things that must really be funny, but that we have NO idea what he is laughing at. And he was *so* proud that the baseball team has went on a LONG winning streak of *gasp* TWO whole games now. Yeah. He was so. elated. :) (Love you, Papa.) Since we know this is normal, given the drugs he has been on, we are not too upset, but rather just happy that he is not in pain. Cross your fingers and say your prayers that he does not feel the need to have Barbara up at 2:30 this morning trying to get home. And that he doesn't feel the need for Mark to come and get him. :) We are very thankful that *everyone* that has cared for him has been nothing but wonderful. Not too often can you say that. Thanks, Vanderbilt, even though your scheduling has a lot to be desired, in my very humble (ok, I know) opinion. Soooo...as it stands right now, he will be having surgery mid afternoon on Monday, subject to change at any second.
Um....what's next? Ah! The blue-eyed, smiling stranger. Like I said, I need to talk about smiling strangers. We've had a few run-ins lately. Kate's car quit on her in the middle of Gallatin last month-ish. She's been a trooper about not having her lil Saturn, especially since she was gifted a car that has been, well...an incredible *gift*. Thanks, Gifter. In the mean time, she had to drive whatever was available, and she did so without complaint. Then, the gifted car broke, and it was very stressful for her...for a lot of reasons, as you can imagine. The biggest reason she had at the time of the quitting was the fact that there she was, in the middle of a 5-lane highway, and at rush hour on a Friday afternoon. Yeah. No one would stop and help her, and then this lady came, WITH her kids (when I heard one of them crying in the background, I knew it was a very young cry). And she stopped, WITH her kids, and helped MY kid. She helped her push her car out of the 5-lane highway. She helped her keep her brain about her. She helped her get her things out of her car, and remember to lock up and get her keys. But wait...it gets better. THEN, she drove her to work. That was a good 15 minutes or so out of her way, but she did it anyways. And she left her, only because she knew that we were taking care of her car and because she was safe, at work. I kept telling Katie to tell this lady thank you, even though that I know that my daughter says those words perhaps more than anyone I know, or have ever known. For real. (Proud mommy moment.) But I told Kate to tell her that he mama was thankful, and to let her know how thankful I was. Kate assured me that she did tell the strange lady that...but somehow, as is often the case, just a simple thank-you did not seem enough to express the gratitude that I felt towards this lady. Fast forward to Wednesday. We had (at best) sketchy directions on how to get to Carl's room from Barbara. And I followed the directions. Little did I know that the directions were fairly open-ended, and there were a lot of ways they could be interpretted and still be right. You know that I did NOT pick the "real" right way. Nope...that would be too easy. I probably picked what was, in actuality, the wrong-est way. Yeah. Surprise. I knew when we stepped on the elevator and pressed the "8" that we were going the wrong place. How? Because it was the way to the Endocrinologist's office that I have had a relationship with for over the last...um...wow. 18 years. It will be 18 years in June. Double WOW. And...I knew there were no patient rooms anywhere NEAR this office. So, we got off the elevator there, at the wrongest place, and I waltzed myself into the nearest place that I saw Vanderbilt workers and sweetly said, in my best Southern-Bell-est voice: Could you help me, pleeeeease???? And the kid behind the counter said sure. Not completely enthusiastically, either. Enter: Smiling, blue-eyed stranger. Picture the most ornery little boy you can think of, cute little pinchy cheeks, twinkling blue eyes, with an "uh-oh, I did it" look on his face, even when he's *not* guilty, and you'll have the Smiling, blue-eyed stranger. He asked where it was I was needing to go, as he guessed I was asking for directions based on the half-attempt at gesturing that his cohort was doing. And then, he smiled, and tried to explain. After about the 16th step in the directions, he said, "You know what? Come on, just follow me. I'll just take you there." Now, remember. We are on the 8th floor. We are needing to go to a room on the 8th floor. Even though all of the first 16 steps of directions pointed to us being nowhere NEAR where we needed to be, for some reason, I guess I thought he was going to walk us around the corner and point to where we needed to be. Nope. He proceeds to walk the 1/2 mile it took to get to the point where he could point to where we needed to be, and then, to tell us how to get back to where we had parked, he stood with us even longer. Have I said that sometimes, "thank you" just doesn't seem anywhere near enough? This, my friends, was exactly one of those times. But, all I had at this point to offer to the smiling, blue-eyed stranger was my words, and a smile. And so that is what I gave him. Off he sauntered, thinking he had just went about his day doing what it was that he did, probably. Then there was me...still thinking of him as I said my prayers that night, asking God to give him an extra blessing for helping us when we needed it. Now, you think I'm at the end of the Smiling, Blue-Eyed Stranger story, don't you? Ha...you should *never* doubt me. We are not done. Fast forward to today. I park closer to where I think we should be (and my ego wants you to know that I was oh, so very close...yet still wrong) and we *smartly* decide to go to the information desk and ask for help. We now know the glitch in our directions, so this can be corrected. She, being the first cousin to the smiling, blue-eyed stranger, no doubt, got up, took us outside, pointed to a far-off building, and said...see there? see that building there? THAT is where you need to be, and I'll tell you a shortcut to make sure you get there. And, she did. And she was so nice. BUT....yup. She was SO wrong. Guess where we ended up? Yup....going to the Endocrinology center again. I was texting. I looked up as we are seeing the elevator doors closing, and I was mortified when I realized that PiePie had just pressed the "8" to go...yup...to the endocrinology floor. There was another nice lady in the elevator with us that heard my panic, and so we got off with her at the 4th floor so she could explain to us the error of our path. As she was (at least more energetically) gesturing to where we needed to be, mid-15th step of directions, what to my wandering eye should appear? Why yes, dear reader, it *could* be so!!!! The...all at once now...Smiling Blue-Eyed Stranger. Who politely tells the lady that she can be dismissed, waves us back onto the elevator, and then, a-gain...walks us to our destination, explaining to us where to park for our next excursion, and inviting us to come back to see him for help at the endocrinology floor should we need him, since we seem to be able to find our way there. :) And...not only is he cute, helpful, and smiley, but he is also humble. I told him that I would pack a gold star so that when he magically appeared the next time, I could give it to him, but he was embarassed, insisting that he didn't do anything, and wishing us a good day. And just like that, he was gone....back to smiling and helping others, no doubt. True story. Just another example of how God gives us who or what we need just when we need it, because He can. :)
My hands now have carpel-tunnel from all this typing that they are not used to these days, so all the other points of interest about my day will have to wait for another time. I'm sure you are upset. Ha.
Our photo of the day is brought to you by "Cheese" and "Cheesier".