Yesterday, I wore a new blue sweater to my husband’s hospital room. (He had surgery. It went well. He will be fine after a longer-than-we-like recovery.) One of the nurses asked if I was wearing blue in support of the Royals being in the World Series. I wasn’t.
Nothing against baseball, but the game was not on my mind yesterday. I was more interested in the logistics of pain control and travel arrangements for the two-hour drive home with my favorite invalid.
I wore blue because my grandmother told me to. Not blue exactly, but my grandmother used to say one should always wear something colorful when visiting a hospital room. All the surroundings, especially back in her day, were so drab and stark. A splash of color in a visitor’s blouse became a living bouquet walking through the door.
I think of that every, single time I visit a hospital room. Actually, I think of it lots of other times, too. Because I know what a difference the little things can make. A blue sweater on a beige day. A kind word. A real smile. A glass of Diet Coke with the good ice and a bendy straw.
This world can be a tough place, Dear Reader. Let’s bring some color where we can.
Aw, I love this so much.
I wore bright, red lipstick to my appointment with the gastroenterologist today. Planning on wearing it to the colonoscopy too! Glad things went well! And you look amazing in that color!
Oh, have fun, friend.
Bendy straws make everything better.
If I lived close enough, I would bring you a Diet Coke, with the good ice and a bendy straw….and a big hug!