A Reminder to Put Pants on Every Morning

I have a very dear Uncle, Uncle G, and it is only through medical miracles and (perhaps) prayers sent around the world that he is here with us today.  He is the Big Dawg’s brother, and they share red curly hair, freckles, and a love for the outdoors

Perhaps roughly two years ago, Uncle G was in the midst of getting a divorce.  It was a good thing for him, truly was.  One weekend morning, he hopped on his motorcycle and sped away to the local grocery store, because he was having people over and he was out of toilet  paper.  While on his journey, he was sideswiped by a truck.  He was life-flighted to KU Med, which is where anyone goes when anything really serious happens, in Kansas City, about an hour away.

We didn’t know for quite awhile if Uncle G was going to make it, and then when it became clear that he WAS going to live, we were very unsure that we would get back the same Uncle G that had been literally scraped off the road just weeks before.

My sister, a physical therapist, living in the same town, went and spent time with Uncle G nearly every day.  She read his medical reports, kept family updated, and just spent time with Uncle G.  She was a true blessing for him and for family, for us, to keep us updated.

Time went on and there were many different complications.  More surgeries, more IV’s, more antibiotics.  The guy couldn’t catch a break.  Even after leaving the hospital, he had to be rehospitalized at least once, that I know of.

But little by little, Uncle G was coming back.  And he did it with the most positive attitude I have ever seen in a person, and I mean ever.  Prior to his accident, he was always extremely positive and seemed like a happy person.  This accident didn’t take it away from him.

Today I was home alone, feeling bad for myself, having slept half my day away because I was up half the night, thinking I might as well just go back to bed instead of facing the intolerable loneliness I often feel these days.  Angry at myself for screwing up my psych meds for far too long, angry that the doctors just can’t figure out what is wrong, angry that I still don’t feel good.  Just angry.  Lonely and angry.

And then my favorite Uncle G called.  He wanted to stop by and visit.  He’d be here in five minutes.  The depressed part of  my brain screamed out, “Nooooo!  Your house is a mess and your hair isn’t washed.  Just put him off!”  So, that’s what I did.  Immediately after hanging up the phone, I had a revelation.  Uncle G would SO understand what I am going through.  So, I called him back and asked him to, yes, please come over.

Walking through the house, it really isn’t all that messy.  The kitchen is clean, and other than Avon products strewn across my dining room table, isn’t even cluttered.  I was only worried then about the fact that my now-short hair couldn’t go into a ponytail, but I found a headband and it actually looks rather cute.  To give myself a little burst, I gave myself one squirt of body splash and felt almost immediately better.

I put on jeans.  Better still.  One of my favorite tops.  Even better.  My feet still won’t fit into my shoes, but I jammed a pair of flip flops on and decided that would work.  All of this took less than five minutes.  I timed it.

And then Uncle G came and all was well, all was fine.   We had a really nice conversation and we talked about how it is to be sick for long periods of time and what we can do to make ourselves feel better.  I told him that just changing my clothes was motivating enough that I was going to run out and do a few errands.

So, a phone call and an uncle made my day today.  What’s making yours?