It seems common when we humans have at least 50 wonderful goings-on in our lives, and then there’s that one bad thing, the bad one is what dominates mucho atencion. I recently proved this true of myself even though I recognized the absurdity of the practice while participating in it …
When my daughter was one year old, a surgeon placed tubes in her ears. This was followed by many strep throat diagnoses over the years and lots-o-doctor visits for Ear, Nose & Throat gunk. This past spring, 17 years later, she had the tonsillectomy we always anticipated would be scheduled much sooner. I knew enough to pluck a financial aid packet from the front desk as we passed by post-surgery. If you have been lucky enough that you & your loved ones have avoided the Emergency Room as of late, go ahead and take a peek at the numbers on the bills below. I traipsed two kiddos to the ER in 2023, both times at the request of a doctor and both times debatable if the ailments should have been considered emergencies.
Apparently, if you occupy a room at the hospital, and the adjective used to describe said room is “emergency,” even if no emergent service is completed, the cost is somewhere between $2,490 and $4,062. The $1,500+ difference, I can only assume, lies in the mood of the employee creating the bills on a given day. Another interesting tidbit…the hospital charges for “Imaging Services”; the Radiology company will be sending a separate bill for their piece of that service. But, let’s explore What in the absolute hell?! has happened to our medical system for a future blog post. Â
I filled out all of the eligibility paperwork necessary for monetary help for my daughter’s hospital bills. I also gathered the tax returns, bank statements, divorce decree, and just about every documentation available about me, minus my blood type, and hauled the thick packet to the post office to ensure it had enough postage. A few weeks later, I received a letter from the hospital saying the complete bill was waived. Heart-warmed, joyful, relieved – all words that express how I felt. I wanted to share this blessing with others who would likely feel the same about the news, namely, the other humans who would be splitting the bill’s payments with me. I texted the others a picture of the forgiveness letter, and then … nothing happened. No reply came-not for hours and not for days and still has yet to come. No “Right on!” or “That’s great!” or “Thank you for working that out.” Being denied the right to a communal celebration, and possibly a small pat on the back, was a slap in the face. Â
Simultaneously super appreciative whilst very pissed off was a very confusing mix of emotions. Shamefully, hours after being gifted thousands of dollars, my mind only wanted to focus on a grievance. I wanted to text friends to discuss the unjustness of no recognition. I went for a run to clear my mind. It didn’t work, immediately at least. I resisted reaching out to anyone to help cool my jets, though I did share with my daughter. Right or not, I figured since she was the reason the bill was generated, she could share in my roller coaster. With her young wisdom, she was able to simply focus on the blessing part of it, which helped me move on, eventually. Based on this blog post, I haven’t quite forgotten the whole ordeal as of yet.
My ability to pivot so quickly from great news to angry forced me to dig a little deeper, wondering, “Why am I like this?” I didn’t have to look very long to answer that question. During my 2nd divorce I learned to always expect the worst from my ex. Maintaining a constant knowing that my plans might not (most likely would not) work out, was just easier than getting my hopes up and then crashing down to disappointment.
I looked back a little further and found the words that surrounded me from birth to college-not explicit lessons but rather implicitly absorbed lessons from what I thought was the normal life for all Americans, or at least all Hoosiers. Mom & Dad warned me that if something was going well, to be weary because good things do not last. They also made sure I was well-schooled in Murphy’s Law, in which if one bad thing happens, there will be a shit storm that follows. The only book I’ve ever seen in front of my Dad was his accounting ledger for his self-owned business. Only weddings and baptisms could get him to step foot in a church. Still yet, he had Mark 10:25, ‘”It’s harder for a rich man to get in heaven than for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle” locked and loaded for any moment a conversation about money deemed it fit. Immersion in this mentality tends to give one a baseline set of negative thinking. This deeply engrained mentality can even find the taint in something as nice as a big, fat debt going away.
As we all do, my parents were doing the best they could by imparting what they had found to be true and helpful in their years on Earth. Since I’ve left the nest, though, I’ve learned about the science of the energy that humans exude. Our focus of attention sends out vibes that attract other, like vibes. In other words, expecting the worst, or always waiting for the shoe to drop, is the opposite path to a prosperous, joyous life. But…
This doesn’t explain instances like floating happily along while getting ready to attend the eagerly anticipated Pearl Jam concert, just for it to get cancelled hours before show time. Or a very desired Florida work trip, that would have allowed escape from a few Indiana December days, being postponed indefinitely. What tf gives in those instances?
To be honest, after writing all of these words, I don’t 100% know the answer to that. Life has disappointments. Period. I could say that with no contrast, existence would be boring. But I don’t know if I agree with that for certain, since it seems it would feel great if all things worked out as planned and we could all just blissfully drift along.  The divine intervention that seems an inconvenience may be saving us from a larger problem. For example, when stuck in a traffic jam, maybe that extra time was the saving grace to avoid the accident up ahead. What’s the alternative to this Pollyanna view? “Traffic sucks! Life sucks! Grrr!””
Once calming down from whatever situation caused a riling up, there’s always a positive nugget to be found.  Simply believing there is a higher purpose within each calamity at least gets our thinking and, thus, energy, going in the right direction. Hunting for it can be fun (albeit corny at times), but with our linear vision I don’t think we will always discover the why to every suckish happening. This is where faith comes in.  In this instance, I was proud of myself for at least noticing how asinine my anger was while I was angry. Even though my pride was stung, I quickly remembered my fail-proof silver lining: this shitty thing has given me a great topic to write about. Â
Always expecting the worse & eternally expecting to be disappointed is a very somber, depressing, not-fun way to live. Believe me, I’ve done it a lot. Astonishingly, I still do it from time to time, to protect myself from feeling vulnerable or looking foolish. What can I say? I’m human. My preferred feeling, though, is gullably, perhaps even ignorantly, expectant of the next good thing to come. Â