Too Much Like Me

Potential Quote of the Day: "Don't Panic."

~Douglas Adams

I’ve seen myself reflected in the most horrible of ways…

No, it wasn’t in a warped Wal-mart mirror during an ego-bashing swimsuit search.

Nor was it in an Extra Large Diet Coke after a sleepless night.

It was in the eyes of my terrified daughter during a panic attack.

Oh dear God, how I prayed for this day to never come! Her shallow breathing, her pale face and big eyes, her tears. “I’ve stopped thinking about the future,” she whispered several nights ago. “Because…I’m afraid…I…won’t…have...one...”

This wasn’t her first attack. That one came while she was in Tennessee with Kevin. He performed masterfully, talking her down and finally to sleep. The next day, true to her yammerful-ness, she gave me a blow-by-blow. We chalked it up to unruly hormones. Bad hormones. Baaaad.

But as I held her during the next two nights, desperately trying to put into practice all of the stupid things I had just written a book about…it all felt so insipid. Nothing…no logic…no prayer…no cheerleading…no scripture quotation…nothing could reach her as she waited to die.

She didn’t, of course. But being a wise and caring mom, and...wanting someone else to have to deal with it, I made an appointment with Megh’s Doctor. Well, we couldn’t actually see him because he was on vacation, blissfully unaware of our great need. Instead we were assigned the Substitute Pediatrician. Just want we needed: the B-team to help the precious fruit of my loin fight the biggest thing in her near-teenage life.

The Substitute Pediatrician swept in, listened briefly, performed a perfunctory listening to her heart and lungs and then made his pronouncement which was both amazingly helpful and stunningly profound:

“Do you have (insert list of panic symptoms here)?” Megh nodded emphatically, surprised he knew her so well. “We I think you’re fine and that you’ve got ‘stressed out.’ It's called a "Panic Attack." And I just want you to know that I see so many girls and boys about your age for this very same thing.”

With one phrase, the Substitute Pediatrician not only reinforced everything both Kevin and I said, but somehow, made it into a Magic Wand of Sorts and made everything better. Really.

In fact he made it so better that Megh announced upon leaving that she was hungry and wanted to celebrate her Newly Renewed Lease On Life with Burger King Chicken Fries and Onion Rings. Value sized.

I love that girl.

she's obviously my daughter at: marcyjoybryan@gmail.com