Nine years ago today, I was at my PCP's office for the third time with a major respiratory illness. After examining me, leaving the room for a few minutes, and then coming back in a very serious mode, my doctor told me (with tears in her eyes) to quit my job. I think I was really stunned. Honestly, I don't remember how I felt at that exact moment, but I just remembered asking her to write it down on a piece of paper so that I could give it to my employer as proof she didn't want me working anymore. I left her office with another round of antibiotics, and headed right then and there to the office building for Headstart. I cried all the way there. I composed myself when I got inside, and tried to keep it together when I handed my note over and explained that I needed to stop working, but it was the hardest thing ever. I don't remember much about what happened after that on that day. While it's still on my mind, it is no longer such a tragic part of my life. I look at is as my doctor telling me something that saved my life. Had she never told me to quit, I would have never thought that I needed to quit my job. I might not be here today, because I am hard-headed, and would have kept teaching! I even tell my doctor the few times she has brought that day up, and how hard it was for her to tell me to quit, that she did me such a favor that day. I think she feels a bit better when I tell her that, for I know it was not an easy decision for her to make.
I saw a news story on one of the local news websites just a bit ago saying that today marks the 14th Anniversary of the Oklahoma City Bombing. Wow, 14 years?? I can't believe that much time has gone by. The bomber, Timothy McVeigh, was from this area, and the atomosphere around here was more like shock and awe when it happened. That same day, though, my dad got into a very serious accident at work. I remember working at Niagara University that day, driving home (I had only just gotten my license a couple weeks before that!), and being told that my dad was in the hospital. He had a 2-ton piece of pipe roll over on his legs, only stopping from crushing him because a small piece of cardboard got in the way. He ended up being out of work for quite awhile, and he had a hospital bed in the living room to stay in for several weeks. I am sooooo relieved that nothing more serious happened to him, that was serious enough!! He still has issues he's been dealing with in regards to that accident. But, at least he's still here and doing fairly well!
So I am hoping that one year, April 19th will actually be a very good thing for some very good reason. Then I won't have to remember the tragic things that have happened on this day, even though life after that has turned out alright.