Grateful

Death knocked on my door yet again. And once again, as always, God answered the door and told death to go away. #byefelicia So here's what happened... I went to the doctor for a routine check up and the doctor did lab work. This happened on a Thursday. Friday he called me and said he needed to see me asap. I went in that Monday, nervous, and he told me that my hemoglobin levels were low. The doctor ordered me to go to the emergency room. I really didn't get the big deal. I mean, who knows about hemoglobin? My doctor succinctly broke it down. He told me that normal levels of hemoglobin are at around 15. Mine were at a 5. He said, and I quote "If my (his) levels were that low, I'd (he'd) be dead." But some how, some way, I was alive with no symptoms. I went to the E.R. and they admitted me. I had to have a blood transfusion. As they pumped some benevolent soul's blood through my body, I had a chance to reflect. Seems I had been worried about the wrong things, and not concerned with my health. Here I was having panic attacks on my way to work, wondering, fearful actually, that today might be the day I do something to get myself fired. And now, laid up in the hospital, it's like, here I am worried about losing my job, when I could have / should have lost my life! It just puts things in perspective. And as always, it reiterates for me that every time my heart beats, it's purposeful. I am here for a reason. Big or small, I'm here to accomplish / do / witness something. And for that, I am grateful.