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.