Friday afternoon 4:29. I'm trying to fend of a crises for a client before everything closes for the weekend at 5:00PM. I have done all I can do and hope against hope he gets what he needs. All the wheels are in motion, I just have to wait to hear now.
It's terrible to say, but it feels good to be stressed over a professional matter rather than a personal one. Last Friday afternoon I was tearing across the city trying to get Maggie's wheelchair fixed and it all worked out. I could not believe everything fell into place like that. I relaxed too soon. When I returned #1 son called from an emergency room in Ashland Oregon needing the insurance information. That's always good for the blood pressure.The conversation went something like this:
M Oh Hi Ed, how's Oregon.
E: pretty good, I guess, except I'm in the emergency room.
Me: (screeching) WHAT!?! What happened now?
[note he is a downhill mountain bike racer, so these visits, while not frequent, are regular)
E: I crashed and went over the bars and landed really hard. I thought I smashed my hip but it's okay and I needed stitches in my arm.Now I need the insurance info.
Me: OK,(digging for card that I have sent him 500 times before) how many stitches?
E: I dunno, I didn't ask.
Me: (growling) ROUGHLY how many, Eddie? 5 stitches says one thing and 200 stitches indicates an entirely different type of injury.
E: Oh, no more than 10.
M: OK (gives insurance info) so you're out for the race tomorrow?
E: No Way! Doc says I can race. I mean I'm stiff and my knee and hip hurt, but that won't stop me.
Me: (begging) PLEASE be careful.
E: No worries mom.
Right. Hakuna Matata. No worries at all. He's fine, this is not a serious injury, but it freaks me out anyway.
Now if the phone would only ring giving me a happy ending to this Friday, I would be very pleased. There are twelve minutes left. Hakuna Matata
have a great weekend.