A couple of weeks ago I was at Walgreens buying 4 of the largest bottles of MiraLAX they sell. Well I guess it was the Walgreens brand of MiraLAX. Because forget about shoe sales I go nutty for a good price on Polyethylene Glycol 3350. Can I get a “what what” for osmotic laxatives people?
Back to my story, I’ve got a wheelbarrow full “Smooth LAX”, and a side order of stimulant laxatives and I’m checking out at the register. Since my Walgreens doesn’t have self check out I face one of two outcomes.
First and most desirable outcome, my cashier makes a mental decision not to say anything about my large quantity of laxative products since they see people buying all kinds of freaky things at Walgreens. Or the second outcome is, I have a cashier whose feeling chatty and we have an awkward conversation.
Lucky me door number two opens when the cashier says, “Is all of this for you? Or are you taking care of someone?”
He’s a sweet looking grandpa guy and not creepy (first impressions I could be way off on this) so I say as simple of an answer as possible. “It’s for my daughter.” Clearly I know it isn’t any of his business but he seemed sad already and worried about me a little so I didn’t want to be rude and tell him to “talk to the hand.”
“Is she sick?” He says. Well, hmmm. “Born that way,” would potentially have been a fine answer. I suppose I could have gone into the details of the Cystic Fibrosis and the complexities it plays on the digestive system but I went with. “Her pancreas doesn’t work.” Just to keep it simple and move on to my seatbelt buckling and driving home.
He remained looking very sad (maybe there were other sad customer purchases that day too poor guy) and said, “how old is your daughter.” “Nine,” I said.
Now if I was wearing this outfit while also
buying an excessive amount of laxative products.
That would have been an even better story! But
this outfit is none of your business! If I
talk about laxatives on my blog I've got
to have some mystery.
Then he stopped to hand me my receipt and said, “I know I shouldn’t say this but that just doesn’t seem fair. That she would have to do this. She’s only nine. But that’s just me. Forget it. It just doesn’t seem fair.”
All I could think at the time to tell him was, “well she’s strong,” as I walked away with my laxative stock pile.
So now since I can prepare myself for future conversations with people who are worried about the fairness of a chronic illness and even saddened by it I can be ready.
I decided it would be best to keep it 140 characters or less. Twitter style, since I don’t want to have long conversations about my children’s health challenges with strangers, but I also don’t want them to think I dwell on it not being fair, because I don’t and I don’t want my kids to do that either.
My response will now be.
Their physical trials make my kids stronger. They are lifted up by God in all they have to do. They are not alone. The love of God is real.
If my count is right I even have one character to spare! So that is it sweet grandpa Walgreen’s cashier man. There you have it in 139 characters. Everybody has problems to solve, trials to overcome, poop happens (get it with the laxatives earlier in the story, ha ha ha) but our Maker didn’t leave us to fight through alone. He helps us through.
Me and my girls on a windy T-Ball night last week
. Girls I promise I will be willing
to buy you any seemingly embarrassing thing you'll
Now if I could petition my Walgreens for a self check out that would be cool too.