She Took Me to the Hospital

She took me to the hospital.

I kept insisting to still-newlywed-Patty that it really wasn’t that big of a deal.

Trying to get back into bed without waking her, without turning on light, the table hadn’t been exactly where I’d remembered it.

Which sound woke her up first—me, uhm expressing displeasure at the shock and pain of the impact when my forehead crashed into the corner of the table?  Or the extended clatter from the stack o’ stuff including lamp and clock that broke when they hit the floor?

Didn’t matter.  She was awake.

“Go back to sleep, Patty, it’s nothing.”

“You’re bleeding!  Your forehead’s covered in blood!”

“It’s nothing, I’m fine, go back to sleep.”

She took me to the hospital.  Not to the one she wanted, which was a much longer drive, but to the one I chose.

Where the ER doc and I agreed it was nothing.

She insisted on stitches.

Again, the ER doc and I agreed it was nothing and that stitches sure weren’t necessary.

“But it’ll leave a scar if you don’t stitch it.”

Do I need to tell you what’s been on my forehead several years now, just above my left eye?

It’s really not that big of a deal.  It’s just a small scar.

But today, it’s a reminder of what can happen when you and I try walking in the dark.

I have other scars from walking in the dark, too.  Most of them don’t show physically.  You, too?  Feel free to comment here: click below, I love hearing from you.

More on this later.  Meanwhile, join me in remembering that “The people who walk in darkness have seen a great light.”   Isaiah 9:2 and Matthew 4:16 tell more.

Let’s remember to walk in that great light.

See you back here soon.