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Last week was one of those weeks where I found myself crying in my car — more than once.

It happens, life gets a little complicated and when the dust finally settles and you get a chance to come to terms with things, sometimes a good cry in the car is an excellent option.

You can get as ugly as you want to.

It all started when my kiddos got sick… again.

There is nothing worse when your child gets sick.

For a few days, we pretty much spent from dusk until dawn on the couch — snuggling, reading books and trying not to go crazy from a lack of getting outside.

By about day four of watching my daughter mope around and barely eat anything, I decided it was time to seek professional help.

So I packed up my little ones in their pyjamas, despite an offer from my parents to watch my son, and we ventured to the walk-in clinic.

It was a Saturday.

I should have known considering people line up prior to opening in order to get a spot, that showing up well AFTER opening, would be a lost cause.

So I had yet another choice to make — go home and monitor my daughter with the most miserable, sad and defeated disposition I had ever seen, or visit my neighbourhood emergency room.

Now I’m not a proponent for using valuable resources on a snotty nose or cold-related headache, but watching my daughter fight a fever she just couldn’t kick was reason enough for me.

When we arrived at Royal Inland Hospital, the process was relatively painless. Not only did the man ahead of us in line offer up his spot to us, the nurses (or they could have been administrative clerks) were so concerned and empathetic about our situation.

They didn’t once make me feel like I was being a hyper-sensitive mom.

Within 15 minutes we were led through the double doors of the ER, and took a seat to wait for the doctor.

My daughter was calmly watching Peppa Pig on my phone and my son was acting perfectly normal….

All of a sudden my son had an emergency of his own. In less than a minute, I went running through the ER like a mad woman, yelling for anyone who would treat my unresponsive baby.

It was literally seconds before he was hooked up to all kinds of machines and surrounded by knowledgeable and quick-thinking doctors, nurses and who knows who else.

I was very impressed with the level of care and professionalism.

My son was released a few hours later, no worse for the wear, and my daughter, still sad, was able to leave as well — none the wiser to what we had just gone through.

And as much as I hate that it happened at all, and I cried days after, I can’t help but wonder how all the ‘stars aligned,’ bringing us to the emergency room that day.

If my daughter hadn’t been sick for so long, we would have never gone in.

If I had decided to drop my son off with my parents.

If the walk-in clinic hadn’t been full, I wouldn’t have considered the ER.

And if that man hadn’t let us go ahead of him, we could still be waiting in line.

Sometimes you just have to hope that something or someone bigger than yourself is truly looking out for you.

— Becky Mann is a 30-something, red haired, mother of two, trying to navigate this life as best she can. She enjoys talking to people and discovering their stories. Still trying to balance her personal and professional life, she juggles work and play. In her spare time Becky can be found visiting with friends, spending time with her family and saving time by reading while walking. She knows there is so much more to come and is looking forward to the continued adventure.

News from © iNFOnews, 2018