So
I'm leaving the chiropractor this morning after waking up with a
horrible case of Franken-neck (apparently my pillow attacked me while I
slept), and a developmentally delayed woman gets up from her chair and
offers to open the door for me. She expresses concern and wishes me
well, and I am grateful.
I stop a few blocks up the street to call home and make sure we have some valerian in stock, as my muscles are spasming something fierce and I can barely force myself to turn my head to the right. I will make a detour to Wal-Mart if we're out. Hubby assures me that we have some.
I am in such pain I'm not sure I can drive 20 minutes home, so I go into Starbucks and get a drink to wash down some Advil and wait a little bit for it to take effect. I have an ice pack plastered to the side of my neck. Even when I had a bad case of rollercoaster neck from a day at Silverwood a few years ago, it was never this bad. I read the paper restlessly, but every few moments suck in my breath when I inadvertently tilt my head slightly in the wrong direction and set off another spasm.
I finally get up to leave, and am faced with what feels like the monumental task of pushing open the heavy glass door without setting my neck off again. I look hopefully at a couple of women standing outside nearby, thinking they might be about to enter, but they're just chatting. I shuffle the door open very gradually and ease myself outside, my neck listing like the Titanic, the ice pack balanced carefully on top of my shoulder.
One of the women notices me starting to move carefully towards my car, and says, "Are you OK?" I laugh and reply, "Is it that obvious?" She says she could tell I was in pain, and offers to take my keys and wallet and open my door for me. She suddenly realizes what she'd said and rushes to reassure me, "I'm not trying to rob you, I promise!" LOL! What a doll!
I grimace right then as another shooting pain flashes through my neck, and she asks me if I want her to pray for me. I say, "Sure! I'll take all the help I can get!" She reaches out and holds my hands, bows her head, then launches into the spontaneous prayer of a woman comfortable chatting with her Creator and asks for His blessings on me that I might get home safely and experience healing. Standing right there on the sidewalk in Clarkston, WA, a little before noon, I experienced the love of a complete stranger, dropping everything to try to help me out because she discerned I was in pain.
As I get in the car she tells me she was born with scoliosis and visits the same chiropractor I'd just seen. I notice the fingers of one of her hands are curled, possibly from mild cerebral palsy, and I surmise that she probably has experienced many health issues in her life. She would make a fabulous nurse. Maybe she is one. I ask her name, and she says it's Jamie. Her last name starts with an "M". She attends Crosspoint periodically. If any of you know her, you're friends with an angel!
I stop a few blocks up the street to call home and make sure we have some valerian in stock, as my muscles are spasming something fierce and I can barely force myself to turn my head to the right. I will make a detour to Wal-Mart if we're out. Hubby assures me that we have some.
I am in such pain I'm not sure I can drive 20 minutes home, so I go into Starbucks and get a drink to wash down some Advil and wait a little bit for it to take effect. I have an ice pack plastered to the side of my neck. Even when I had a bad case of rollercoaster neck from a day at Silverwood a few years ago, it was never this bad. I read the paper restlessly, but every few moments suck in my breath when I inadvertently tilt my head slightly in the wrong direction and set off another spasm.
I finally get up to leave, and am faced with what feels like the monumental task of pushing open the heavy glass door without setting my neck off again. I look hopefully at a couple of women standing outside nearby, thinking they might be about to enter, but they're just chatting. I shuffle the door open very gradually and ease myself outside, my neck listing like the Titanic, the ice pack balanced carefully on top of my shoulder.
One of the women notices me starting to move carefully towards my car, and says, "Are you OK?" I laugh and reply, "Is it that obvious?" She says she could tell I was in pain, and offers to take my keys and wallet and open my door for me. She suddenly realizes what she'd said and rushes to reassure me, "I'm not trying to rob you, I promise!" LOL! What a doll!
I grimace right then as another shooting pain flashes through my neck, and she asks me if I want her to pray for me. I say, "Sure! I'll take all the help I can get!" She reaches out and holds my hands, bows her head, then launches into the spontaneous prayer of a woman comfortable chatting with her Creator and asks for His blessings on me that I might get home safely and experience healing. Standing right there on the sidewalk in Clarkston, WA, a little before noon, I experienced the love of a complete stranger, dropping everything to try to help me out because she discerned I was in pain.
As I get in the car she tells me she was born with scoliosis and visits the same chiropractor I'd just seen. I notice the fingers of one of her hands are curled, possibly from mild cerebral palsy, and I surmise that she probably has experienced many health issues in her life. She would make a fabulous nurse. Maybe she is one. I ask her name, and she says it's Jamie. Her last name starts with an "M". She attends Crosspoint periodically. If any of you know her, you're friends with an angel!
there are a lot of good people out there, some days we see a lot of them, other days they can't be found. I hope your neck feels better soon.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Gill. It's Saturday, and I can turn my neck to 2 o'clock. It's sloooooowly getting better, but I'm out of the extreme pain woods, at least for now.
ReplyDelete