This is not meant as some kind of a dig at those who are bi-polar, but rather my own way to describe a life that has such ridiculous swings in events that I honestly sometimes wonder which end is up. These things always happen when I think I have a handle on life, like I am moving forward and am going to be able to enjoy myself for a bit. Then the anvil hurtles from the sky while I am fastened in the vice grip of fear unable to escape the falling object....Wham!
This happened to me two years ago when my health insurance called me the Friday afternoon before my scheduled Bi-Lateral surgery. "Hi, Ms. Oliphant, we regret to inform you but that (life saving) surgery you are scheduled to have on Monday morning...yeah, we're not going to cover that. Sorry for the inconvenience." Wham. Panic mode...I felt like life suddenly went into slow motion.
Fast forward to this last Friday. "Hi, Ms. Oliphant, there seems to be some kind of mix up. We have no record of your daughter enrolling in the Milwaukee High Schools for the Arts. There are no spaces available for her. Sorry for the inconvenience." I'm thinking that God has a call center that goes into hyper drive on Friday afternoons where he starts telling his out-sourced telemarketers, "Yup, that person is getting way to comfortable. Give her the Friday afternoon 'Wake Up!' call." Okay, God, first of all, not laughing! And second, "Not awake? I NEVER sleep! Stop it!" Again, panic mode...slow motion.
Friday evening my daughter, having worked so hard to get into the school, was having her graduation ceremony from her old middle school. When I got the call she was luckily still at school. My son was at home and witnessed his mother, once again, go through a metamorphosis into a crazed, panicked, lunatic. I could only think of how disappointed my daughter was going to be, how I had moved our lives downtown for nothing, the expense, the long drives, the money, the hard work, the disappointment, the money, the exhaustion, the upcoming emotional upheaval, the expense..."How do I possibly fix this one!?" My son holds my shaking head as I hyperventilate, speaking calmly, "Mom, it's got to be a mistake. It will all work out. You somehow always make it work out. Take a deep breath." He spoke to me as if I were a little child that had just scraped her knee...speaking in low, calm, comforting tones. He was right. I needed to pull myself together. Damage control mode...slow motion.
I pulled up all my old e-mails and barraged the school administrator who made the call with copies of his own e-mails that stated my daughter was enrolled and that they HAD received the appropriate paperwork. I was on a mission. Within an hour, e-mails, phone calls, messages, attachments sent...and a demand for resolution before the end of business day Friday. I was determined to go to my daughter's graduation with a clear head...comfortable. My cell phone rings. A man's rather timid voice on the other end speaks slowly, "Hi, Ms. Oliphant, I am so sorry for all the confusion. It appears we had your daughter's last name listed as Brown, not Browning. Everything is fine. She is enrolled for Fall of 2013." I finally breathe for the first time in hours. But I do not let the man retreat from the call so quickly. "Mr. W, please confirm that information with an e-mail this afternoon." "Understood," he responds. You see, I know there's always next Friday, when God's callers may get some more funny ideas.
This happened to me two years ago when my health insurance called me the Friday afternoon before my scheduled Bi-Lateral surgery. "Hi, Ms. Oliphant, we regret to inform you but that (life saving) surgery you are scheduled to have on Monday morning...yeah, we're not going to cover that. Sorry for the inconvenience." Wham. Panic mode...I felt like life suddenly went into slow motion.
Fast forward to this last Friday. "Hi, Ms. Oliphant, there seems to be some kind of mix up. We have no record of your daughter enrolling in the Milwaukee High Schools for the Arts. There are no spaces available for her. Sorry for the inconvenience." I'm thinking that God has a call center that goes into hyper drive on Friday afternoons where he starts telling his out-sourced telemarketers, "Yup, that person is getting way to comfortable. Give her the Friday afternoon 'Wake Up!' call." Okay, God, first of all, not laughing! And second, "Not awake? I NEVER sleep! Stop it!" Again, panic mode...slow motion.
Friday evening my daughter, having worked so hard to get into the school, was having her graduation ceremony from her old middle school. When I got the call she was luckily still at school. My son was at home and witnessed his mother, once again, go through a metamorphosis into a crazed, panicked, lunatic. I could only think of how disappointed my daughter was going to be, how I had moved our lives downtown for nothing, the expense, the long drives, the money, the hard work, the disappointment, the money, the exhaustion, the upcoming emotional upheaval, the expense..."How do I possibly fix this one!?" My son holds my shaking head as I hyperventilate, speaking calmly, "Mom, it's got to be a mistake. It will all work out. You somehow always make it work out. Take a deep breath." He spoke to me as if I were a little child that had just scraped her knee...speaking in low, calm, comforting tones. He was right. I needed to pull myself together. Damage control mode...slow motion.
I pulled up all my old e-mails and barraged the school administrator who made the call with copies of his own e-mails that stated my daughter was enrolled and that they HAD received the appropriate paperwork. I was on a mission. Within an hour, e-mails, phone calls, messages, attachments sent...and a demand for resolution before the end of business day Friday. I was determined to go to my daughter's graduation with a clear head...comfortable. My cell phone rings. A man's rather timid voice on the other end speaks slowly, "Hi, Ms. Oliphant, I am so sorry for all the confusion. It appears we had your daughter's last name listed as Brown, not Browning. Everything is fine. She is enrolled for Fall of 2013." I finally breathe for the first time in hours. But I do not let the man retreat from the call so quickly. "Mr. W, please confirm that information with an e-mail this afternoon." "Understood," he responds. You see, I know there's always next Friday, when God's callers may get some more funny ideas.
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