I had to take a blood test for my crazy-head doctor, and a COVID-19 test before I’m allowed to go inside the hospital to have my ERCP procedure Friday. We have a U of U clinic about four blocks away, so I figured I’d head over there as soon as the clinic lab opened, and I’d be back home to do a morning TIE O’ THE DAY post before the day really got going. I left the house at 8AM. And then, suddenly, it was almost noon. That’s right. An annoying, but necessary, errand which should have taken 30 minutes to conquer, magically took 4 hours. Hey, we’ve all been there. Some days are like that, and you might as well smile through every minute of those days. There’s nothing more ridiculous to see/be than the poor fool who’s having an clumsy, luckless day and tries to fight it, but is unsuccessful. Sometimes it is best to accept your circumstances and press on as best you can. I was an illustration for the ages of this principle this morning.
So I went to the Centerville clinic just a few blocks away to get my two tests done. They could handle the blood test, but they had very recently quit doing COVID-19 tests at their location. I knew then that I would be driving somewhere else to get my COVID test, but I was already at this clinic, so I let them poke me for the blood test my crazy-head doc had ordered. With the blood test done, I drove out to the Farmington Health Center where I was sure they were still doing COVID testing. And they were. Now, I’d had the stick-poking-way-up-in-the-nose COVID test a few months ago. It made me sneeze, and it felt more obnoxious than painful. Today’s test was different. I was in charge of the swab sticks. I got to poke one swab stick in both my nostrils—swab, swab, swab. I then got to poke a second swab stick in my throat—swab, swab, swab. If my test comes back negative, I will be set for my ERCP Friday.
After I left the Farmington Health Center and headed in the direction of home, I spied HARMON’S at Station Park. I didn’t have a Goliath shopping list, but I needed a couple of things. I parked as close as I could to the front doors because the wind was getting serious about blowing, and things were turning cold. I was only in the grocery store for 5 minutes, but the wind was significantly windier when I carried my one bag of groceries out the door and into the parking lot. Out of nowhere, I was attacked by a stray shopping cart—piloted by no one but the gusts. It rolled over my toes and kept right on going. (A roll-and-run?)
I must pause here to tell you a true thing about me: I’m always the odd person who says things like, “Jesus would return his shopping cart.” I mean, if you’re gonna say you’re a Christian, then you better take every opportunity—bigly or small—to act like him. So right away I knew I had to wrangle that aimless shopping cart and put it where it belongs, where it can’t injure someone or someone’s property. Off, I ran across the parking lot. My goal was to snag the cart before it hit a group of cars it seemed to be aimed at. All the while, my bag of groceries is flying whichever way the wind haphazardly whipped it as I ran. Despite my “old broad” style of running, I gained on the shopping cart. Finally, before it ran into anyone or anything, I grabbed it. I stopped it. I pushed the cart against the gusts of wind and into a stall at the cart return. Next stop, my car.
Yup, I was panting up a storm because of the cart chase, and I was now far away from my car. My car was waaaaaaaaay across the parking lot from where I had ended up. I walked through the chilling wind, warmed by the feeling that I had done my tiny part to make the world a better place. I had put a fleeing shopping cart back on the right path.
But the wind was not done with me yet. I turned my head from side to side to keep an eye out for any approaching vehicles—or other stray shopping carts—as I trudged bravely across the parking lot to my Vonnegut Grace Vibe. Suddenly, a gust of wind—probably a tornado, I’m sure—caught one of my hearing aids in exactly the right/wrong spot. It blew my left hearing aid completely out of my ear! (For a moment, I thought I must be back in windy Delta.) Once again today, I was on the trail to catch something running away to who-knows-where. My runaway hearing aid had flown out of my ear, then dropped, then flown and dropped again and again, as I zig-zagged dramatically and desperately to tackle it. I would say that I probably looked to gawkers like I was performing some kind of expressionist dance routine, but I’m sure it didn’t look anything like that at all. And it’s not likely any passersby would have been able to see my minuscule hearing aid scurrying about. Nope, they would have seen only me, chasing the wild air. At least with the cart, an onlooker could see I was chasing after a delinquent shopping cart in the wind. The Hearing Aid Dance was a whole other enchilada.
After I got my still-functioning hearing aid back in my ear and was safely in my car, I realized I had just had some unplanned fine fun. I hadn’t wasted time and energy shaking my fist at the travails of my day. Bow Tie o’ the Day and I had simply danced through the bluster. All is well.
NEWS FLASH! The way we handle things is always a choice of our own making.