We don’t always get another chance to tell someone what needs to be said…
I was reminded of this yesterday when I went in for my yearly appt with my doctor.
If you’ve been following me for very long, you probably can already imagine that this appt can be difficult for me.
“How many times have you been pregnant?” they ask me EVERY. SINGLE. YEAR.
Listen, I get it. I understand why they need to ask this question.
But I’d love it if – just once – they would say instead, “Has anything changed in your medical history since last year?”
Because that’s a much less painful question to answer.
I seriously hate having to say every single time, “5.”
“And how many live births?”
“1.”
But that’s another rant for another day.
I had been dreading this appt all week (just like I do every year).
But this year’s appt was also different because my doctor had moved buildings. He moved into another physician group.
So a part of me thought, “Maybe it won’t be as hard this time…Maybe since it’s a different office than where I went to discover 4 miscarriages and see 4 still babies on that ultrasound screen…maybe a new building will make it less hard….”
As I walked into the new building, it was different. I didn’t have quite as many emotions flood in as I normally do.
The elevator didn’t remind me of the time I had carried an ultrasound picture in my hand and had a sweet old man ask me if it was a boy or girl, all while thinking to myself that my baby was already gone.
It was also different because my doctor’s staff didn’t all move with him, so the familiar faces of his receptionist and nurses weren’t there for me to see.
And I realized while I sat there in the waiting room…
“I probably won’t ever see them again.”
The receptionist who allowed me to go back to a room in privacy rather than sit in the waiting room full of pregnant women on the verge of tears…
Or…
The nurses and nurse practitioner who helped me through some of the worst days of my life.
And all I could think was…
“I didn’t ever tell them thank you.”
“Thank you for being so kind and gracious to me and doing those little things that made those hard days just a little bit less hard.”
As I left the building, I did thank my doctor. And I asked him to pass the message along to his receptionist and staff if he happened to talk with them too.
But I won’t ever probably know if they got that message or not.
So today…
Can I encourage you to do something that I didn’t get to do?
Tell that person who made a difference in your life what they did and what it meant to you.
Don’t wait for next time…because there isn’t always a next time.
