On Being Purified

"The simple things are the most extraordinary, but only a pure heart can recognize them." --Coelho

I'm not saying I'm perfect by any stretch of the means. And what I'm referring to is the fact that if you determine to do what you need to do and feel all you need to feel to be sustained in trial, the process is is refining and therefor humbling. And you get the sensation of being purified.

For a time to follow, you appreciate the littlest things.

I wrote thank you notes to the therapists, the receptionist. The AP Bio high school teacher that taught me poignantly and passionately about Botulism (and other things) so I had less to learn of the condition in the crisis. How could I not? Over the past year, I've had the opportunity to thank the call center gal who put us "right through" for the most pivotal appointment I hope to ever have. And there's the staff at the clinic...

What I have is a special relationship with the professional: who happens to be a loving and familiar face from Church, who happened to answer a different phone, and happened to commit to run an errand, leaving from her post at the hospital, and happened to walk through the busy ER right into Danielle's room, and was there to give me a hug, interpret, and advise me when I happened to need her most. When I needed the exact things I'd received most.

I have a few extra Christmas cards to mail out this year.
It surely must be the simple things.

It's been a complete year since. Danielle was discharged as "resolved" from her last speech therapy appointment days ago, she got a kiss on the cheek and a red balloon on a string from her therapist. I stole a hug."Chariots of Fire" played in my head as we walked through the parking lot.

And this young woman and her family are so appreciative. To God, science, nature, humanity, love, prayers, etc. etc. To endure a simple copacetic ending to something so fantastic, has been a purifying joy as well.

If you would like, read Danielle's Botulism story here. It has many happy endings.