Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: GRATE (11/19/15)
- TITLE: From Grating to Grateful
By Trudy Newell
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ADD TO MY FAVORITES
I shuffled out on the front porch and glared at the bright sunshine. My head throbbed and my eyes hurt.
A few boys were playing basketball next door. I frowned at them.
“Boys, could you keep the noise down!”
Not waiting for their reply, I turned and made my way back to the kitchen.
What’s wrong with me? Why do I act this way? I loved our teen-age boys, and enjoyed their games. I used to love cooking; now it’s only a chore. I snap at Bill and jump at every little thing. Even my favorite Southern Gospel music grates on my nerves.
I sat at the table with a glass of sweet tea. Reflecting on the past year, I cringed. I had changed from cheerful and sweet as the tea I now sipped into a negative and nervous old lady.
My husband, Bill, had noticed the change. Until now I refused to go to the doctor about it. But today, humbled at who I was becoming, I contemplated calling the doctor.
At 5:30 Bill walked in the door.
Poor Bill, he never knew what kind of a mood I’d be in when he got home.
“The spaghetti sauce smells good, honey. Did you use your grandmother’s special recipe?”
“Sorry, sweetheart, not this time.” It didn’t have much of an aroma to me. I just knew we needed to eat.
Empty-nesters, we sat and stared at each other as we ate our supper. The only thing I really enjoyed was the garlic bread. White bread and all that butter – sure I enjoyed it. The little bit of garlic on top didn’t turn it into a healthy choice.
I groaned inside as Bill looked me straight in the eyes.
“Linda, have you made an appointment with Dr. Wilson yet?”
“No, but I will.” I said between bites.
I could see Bill was serious, and I wasn’t going to be able to work my way out of this.
I scrunched up my face, not wanting to answer.
“Don’t worry. You have an appointment tomorrow morning at ten, and I’m taking you. That’s my final answer.”
I felt my face flush, and I’m sure my eyes flashed like daggers. Forget the “S” (submission) word, “Bill, how dare you. I’m a big girl now. You may be my husband, but you don’t have to be my watchdog.”
Bill looked at me, “Linda, what am I supposed to do? Wait till I have to take you to the hospital in an ambulance?”
I hated going to the doctor. First of all they can never get my blood. My veins, buried in my flesh, wiggled all over the place. I need to eat, and no breakfast set my nerves on edge. All that poking around and probing exasperated me. I went under protest.
As Dr. Wilson questioned me, I hoped he didn’t think I was a mental case, or worse. His ‘third degree’ didn’t help.
Yet, God is good, and Dr. Wilson treated me with respect and concern.
“Mrs. Price, I can’t be sure until all the results comes back, but I suspect your problems stem from hormonal imbalance. Once we get you on the right medication and regulate it, you will feel much better.
Sure enough, the lab work confirmed his evaluation. Just knowing what the problem was helped me to relax.
It took two months to get things regulated.
By November I was back to my old self. How I looked forward to having the whole family at our place to celebrate Thanksgiving. My energy was back, and so was my love for the kitchen. With joy and anticipation I marked off the days until the gang would arrive. I cooked what I could ahead and froze it. I had a ball baking pies – pumpkin, apple, and Bill’s favorite, pecan.
I stepped out onto the porch with a heart full of thanksgiving. God had help me through this difficult time in my life. How do people make it without the Lord?
I waved at the guys playing basketball next door. They waved back.
“Hey, Mrs. Price.”
“Hey, yourselves. Isn’t it a bit cold play basketball this afternoon?
“Naw, we never stop moving.” Smiled Trey at six foot six.
I smiled in return and went back into my cozy kitchen. What a transformation. The light-hearted banter was music to my ears. No longer did everything grate on me, instead I had a great big grateful heart.
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