Yesterday afternoon Drew and I went to escape the dripping heat at a public pool. She starts swim lessons next week and I wanted to practice drill her to make sure she is not going to embarrass me (she really needs to get the bubble blowing and motorboat kick stuff down). The pool was packed but I eyed a nice shady spot in the grass to drop our stuff. I had barely dropped our towels when I felt tiny stings all over my feet and hands and looked down to see myself swarmed by ants. Leave it to me to walk straight onto an anthill. I started flinging and swatting my arms and legs. A balding man sunbathing only five feet away adjusted himself and turned his head the other way. As I was jiggling and wiggling trying to free myself from the little stings, Drew knelt down and swatted at my feet for me while I took care of my hands. As quick as the ants came, the ants went, leaving me with little red bump souveniers. Since then Drew likes to remind me of the ants and pretend to swat at them on my feet. I can't say exactly why this story is sweet to me. Perhaps because I am always taking care of Drew and she was so willing and happy to take care of me back. Even as I am scratching my itchy feet today, I can't help but smile thinking about it.
Also yesterday, Jason came home and told me about a patient that I can't get out of my head. This surgery patient was a two day old premie baby whose mother had died while giving birth. The father was in jail somewhere and there is no other family yet known. Even though well cared for by all the nurses and doctors, I can't help but think of the little unnamed baby being completely alone in this world. Coming out of surgery with no one to hold his tiny hand. Jason reminded me that he is only two days old and that he really doesn't know the difference. But I think he does. I feel so incredibly lucky today that I have someone to love and take care of.
Who also takes care of me.