When I headed to the hospital this morning for a routine appointment, I thought my biggest challenge was going to be finding a place to park.

But as the hospital loomed into view (does anything good ever loom into view?) I realized that this is the first time I have gone inside the hospital since my Dad died.

And that made it so difficult to drive that last little bit toward the hospital.

It was more of a dread of what I might feel than what I was feeling. (Not a great thing for my brain to do but brains are tricky monsters)

I filled up with what ifs

What if I can’t even go in?

What if the feelings weigh me down?

What if I start crying when I step inside?

So I was feeling bad in the moment AND anticipating feeling worse.

But as I started looking for somewhere to park, and got increasingly frustrated with not being able to find a spot, I managed to distract myself.

So coming into the hospital, late and in a hurry, kept my brain busy and by the time I got to my doctor’s office I was ok.

Well, mostly anyway.