Today I went back to the doctor's office to get some lab work done. It took five "fishing expeditions" in both forearms and hands before the nurse was able to get a vein to cooperate. I'm pretty used to this scenario anytime blood work is needed and I like to think of my bruises as really cool battle wounds I can compare to my little brothers'. (Which I promptly did this evening, and would have won if Japhy hadn't have run into something in the dark.) While the nurse kept becoming frustrated with her unsuccessful attempts, I was cheering her on and making jokes about it. Though I wish I would have been given bigger veins with all of the medical testing this life apparently has in store for me, I'm incredibly grateful blood and needles don't make me woozy. Inbetween attempts three and four, my nurse asked me where I fit in in my family. I told her I was the middle child. She replied, "That doesn't surprise me." Being the curious little cat I am, I asked her why. She said she could tell I was the middle child because I was so laid back and easy going while she, the oldest child, was stressing out.
To anyone hearing this story who's spent any amount of the first 17 years of my life with me, they would say, "I don't know who that nurse was talking about, but it certainly wasn't the Lauren I know." And they'd be right. I spent most of my life being the poster child for the over-achieving, type-A+ personality. Having that personality gave me a Hulk-like drive to always do better, be better, but it came at a hefty cost. Perfectionism is all about doing and being the best, not your best and it can lead to a life filled with stress, unrealistic self-expectations, and inevitably, feelings of inadequacy. I come by it honestly with two high-stress perfectionistic parents. Somewhere about middle school, I realized that that's not the kind of life I want to lead and I prayed everyday from then on for help to become more laid back and easy-going. It came in steps so small they could only possibly be construed as embryo steps, because even calling what little progress I made a baby step would be an exaggeration. That is, until I developed my health condition. What a catalyst for growth and change my physical trial has been in my life. I'm hoping to find some sort of middle ground between the two lifestyles. A place where I can keep the drive, will, and tenacious, hard working side that opened the door for so many wonderful opportunities in my life, and the relaxed, easy-going nature that allows life to truly be enjoyed.
This trial has forced me to learn how to let go of not only life circumstances out of my control, but also how to let go of a fast-paced, do-everything lifestyle. When you live 14 miles out of town and your car breaks down, you learn how to walk. As you walk, you're able to see all of the beautiful scenery that flew past you when you drove, and you get to stop and meet all of your wonderful neighbors who are walking as well. And when you do this, you realize all of the little blessings and moments of happiness you missed out on while you drove into town everyday by yourself, preoccupied with your mountain of a to-do list for the day. This trial has taught me how to live without the things I felt I couldn't. Life will go on. Often times, I feel like Mario on Mario Brothers when the screen just keeps pushing him to go forward. There's no sitting still, there's no going back. With time, there's only forward. So why not move with it?
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