Willingness

   "So I've been thinking". Probably not the sanest thing to say at the start of any conversation, however that is what I've been doing. My mind tends to fly untethered, I hope my typers can keep up.
   I met a 10 year old named Lenny this week at the Gilbert Mercy Hospital. He was taking up a significant portion of an already overcrowded waiting room. I initially thought about tuning him up and getting his mom to corral him, but I did not act on my first thought. "I asked him what he was in for". He was wearing pajamas, and a red wristband, so I knew he was not support personnel, and he was 10. He said tonsils, and my attitude changed 180 degrees. I almost cried. I had my tonsils removed a month ago, and the pathology report confirmed that my tonsils(the left tonsilar pillar) was the point of origin for my cancer.
   Lenny was somewhat interested to find out that I had just survived a surgery, he was facing. His attitude shifted, and he offered to let us share the couch. We joined him, and I assured him that getting the tonsils out was a very good thing. I wish every 10 year old had their tonsils removed. I strongly recommended the chicken broth ahead of the Italian ices, or flipping pudding. The ices are like swallowing broken glass, which I have done(light bulbs in a prior life, not sober). The puddings coagulate at the back of your throat and cause debilitating pain as you attempt to process, like peanut butter on the roof of your mouth. Lenny seemed to be paying attention, and then they called his number. He lost a little of his bravery, but he got up, and met his mom for the walk to the prep room.
   I loose a little of my bravery on a regular basis. Each of the last 4 weeks I have undergone some surgical procedure at a hospital. General anesthesia is not my idea of a fun day. As the day of surgery arrives I tell Beth, "I'm not going". She typically says OK, as I get up say my prayers, make my bed, brush my teeth, and take a shower. When I put my "big boy" pants on, I have what is needed to get in the car. "Get in the car". Four of the most important words I have ever heard. I heard those words so often at one point in my life that I thought it was my nickname. I am usually willing. Willingness is probably the greatest gift I have ever received. You can't make someone willing, and you can't teach willingness. It comes from a sense of desperation, or a strong character. In my case it was the desperation.
   I saw Lenny in the prep room prior to my surgery. We bumped knuckles. Very human. His mom wasn't sure what to make out of the exchange, but smiled. I had a port put in that day, but the real experience had nothing to do with surgery. Can I allow a shift in my attitude? Can I open myself up to the possibility that a greater purpose is unfolding, with wonderful experiences?
Willingness: This is an indispensable essential for recovery:

I'm still on my feet...TJH