<\/p>\n
Every Sunday for nine years, Charlene from the choir drove me to church.<\/p>\n
I was seventy-six, and Charlene had been my ride since my eyesight started getting worse.<\/p>\n
She always arrived at 8:15.<\/p>\n
Always.<\/p>\n
Two quick taps on the horn.<\/p>\n
I’d grab my purse, lock the front door, and climb into her little blue sedan.<\/p>\n
For nine years, we had never missed a Sunday.<\/p>\n
But that spring, I’d started having strange little spells.<\/p>\n
They weren’t dramatic.<\/p>\n
That was the problem.<\/p>\n
A word would disappear while I was speaking.<\/p>\n
My fingers would suddenly fumble a button.<\/p>\n
Once, I poured orange juice into my coffee instead of my glass.<\/p>\n
Another morning, I couldn’t remember the name of my neighbor for almost thirty seconds.<\/p>\n
Then everything would come back.<\/p>\n
Perfectly normal.<\/p>\n
So I didn’t tell anyone.<\/p>\n
Well, I eventually told my doctor.<\/p>\n
He barely looked up from his computer.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt’s probably normal aging.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAre you sure?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYour tests look fine.\u201d<\/p>\n
Then he charged me $180.<\/p>\n
I went home relieved.<\/p>\n
Or at least, I convinced myself I was.<\/p>\n
Then came that Sunday.<\/p>\n
Charlene pulled into my driveway at 8:15.<\/p>\n
I walked toward the car wearing my favorite blue sweater.<\/p>\n
She rolled down the window.<\/p>\n
But she didn’t say hello.<\/p>\n
She just stared at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cCharlene?\u201d<\/p>\n
She opened the passenger door.<\/p>\n
\u201cHoney, come here.\u201d<\/p>\n
I leaned toward her.<\/p>\n
She studied my face.<\/p>\n
\u201cSmile.\u201d<\/p>\n
I laughed.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cJust smile.\u201d<\/p>\n
I did.<\/p>\n
Her face went pale.<\/p>\n
\u201cYour right side is drooping.\u201d<\/p>\n
I touched my cheek.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDon’t argue with me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI’m fine.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, you’re not.\u201d<\/p>\n
She got out of the car.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe’re going to urgent care.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut church\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cChurch can wait.\u201d<\/p>\n
She took my purse from my shoulder.<\/p>\n
I remember being annoyed.<\/p>\n
I remember telling her she was overreacting.<\/p>\n
I remember saying I’d be fine by the time we arrived.<\/p>\n
I was wrong.<\/p>\n
At urgent care, the doctor asked me to follow his finger with my eyes.<\/p>\n
Then he held out his hands.<\/p>\n
\u201cSqueeze.\u201d<\/p>\n
I squeezed with both hands.<\/p>\n
He looked at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cAgain.\u201d<\/p>\n
I squeezed.<\/p>\n
Then he asked me to raise both arms.<\/p>\n
My right arm slowly drifted downward.<\/p>\n
The doctor stepped outside.<\/p>\n
I heard him talking quietly.<\/p>\n
Then another doctor came in.<\/p>\n
He didn’t smile.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhen did the facial drooping start?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThis morning.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHave you had episodes before?\u201d<\/p>\n
I hesitated.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat kind?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDifficulty speaking? Weakness? Trouble using your hands?\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked at Charlene.<\/p>\n
She answered for me.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow long?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSeveral months.\u201d<\/p>\n
The doctor looked at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cMrs. Harris, we’re calling an ambulance.\u201d<\/p>\n
My heart began pounding.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n
He didn’t sugarcoat it.<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause we’re concerned you’re having a stroke.\u201d<\/p>\n
Everything after that happened quickly.<\/p>\n
Paramedics.<\/p>\n
Sirens.<\/p>\n
A hospital corridor.<\/p>\n
Bright lights.<\/p>\n
Questions.<\/p>\n
Blood tests.<\/p>\n
A CT scan.<\/p>\n
Then another scan.<\/p>\n
I lay on the gurney gripping the rail so tightly that my knuckles hurt.<\/p>\n
Charlene stood beside me.<\/p>\n
She hadn’t left.<\/p>\n
Finally, the neurologist walked in.<\/p>\n
He pulled the curtain closed.<\/p>\n
\u201cMrs. Harris, we found the problem.\u201d<\/p>\n
I swallowed.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat is it?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou’ve been having transient ischemic attacks.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stared at him.<\/p>\n
\u201cMini-strokes?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked toward Charlene.<\/p>\n
The doctor continued.<\/p>\n
\u201cThey were warnings.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow many?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe can’t know exactly.\u201d<\/p>\n
I whispered,<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd today?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cToday was a major warning.\u201d<\/p>\n
He pulled up my scan.<\/p>\n
\u201cOne of the arteries supplying blood to your brain is severely narrowed.\u201d<\/p>\n
I couldn’t take my eyes off the image.<\/p>\n
\u201cBut my doctor said it was age.\u201d<\/p>\n
The neurologist paused.<\/p>\n
\u201cThose symptoms should not simply be dismissed as aging.\u201d<\/p>\n
My stomach dropped.<\/p>\n
\u201cSo what happens now?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe treat the blockage and reduce your risk of a major stroke.\u201d<\/p>\n
He looked at Charlene.<\/p>\n
\u201cYour friend did exactly the right thing.\u201d<\/p>\n
I started crying.<\/p>\n
Not because I was afraid.<\/p>\n
Because I suddenly understood how close I had come.<\/p>\n
The doctor told me that if I had gone to church that morning and ignored the symptoms, the next stroke could have left me permanently disabled\u2014or worse.<\/p>\n
Charlene sat beside me.<\/p>\n
\u201cI just didn’t like your smile.\u201d<\/p>\n
I laughed through my tears.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy smile?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYour smile looked wrong.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat saved my life?\u201d<\/p>\n
She shrugged.<\/p>\n
\u201cApparently.\u201d<\/p>\n
I spent six days in the hospital.<\/p>\n
When I finally went home, my kitchen looked different.<\/p>\n
My chair looked different.<\/p>\n
My front door looked different.<\/p>\n
Everything looked precious.<\/p>\n
Even the stupid orange juice I’d once poured into my coffee.<\/p>\n
Two weeks later, I received a phone call from my old doctor’s office.<\/p>\n
He wanted to speak with me.<\/p>\n
I almost didn’t answer.<\/p>\n
But I did.<\/p>\n
He apologized.<\/p>\n
He admitted that, knowing what he knew now, my earlier episodes deserved a much more thorough neurological evaluation.<\/p>\n
I thanked him.<\/p>\n
Then I hung up.<\/p>\n
I wasn’t interested in blaming anyone.<\/p>\n
I was interested in being alive.<\/p>\n
Six months later, I walked into church again.<\/p>\n
Charlene was waiting outside.<\/p>\n
She looked me up and down.<\/p>\n
\u201cFeeling okay?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFace moving?\u201d<\/p>\n
I smiled.<\/p>\n
She grinned.<\/p>\n
\u201cGood.\u201d<\/p>\n
We walked inside together.<\/p>\n
After the service, I stood at the front of the church.<\/p>\n
I hadn’t planned to say anything.<\/p>\n
But I felt like I needed to.<\/p>\n
I told everyone what had happened.<\/p>\n
Then I said something I’ll never forget.<\/p>\n
\u201cPlease don’t ignore the little things.\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n A forgotten word.<\/p>\n Sudden weakness.<\/p>\n Numbness.<\/p>\n Trouble speaking.<\/p>\n A crooked smile.<\/p>\n Something that disappears doesn’t necessarily mean something wasn’t wrong.<\/p>\n Sometimes it’s a warning.<\/p>\n Sometimes it’s your body giving you one last chance to listen.<\/p>\n When I finished speaking, Charlene was crying.<\/p>\n So was I.<\/p>\n She still picks me up every Sunday.<\/p>\n Nine years later, she still arrives at 8:15.<\/p>\n And she still honks twice.<\/p>\n But now there’s one difference.<\/p>\n Before I get into her car, she looks at me and says,<\/p>\n \u201cSmile.\u201d<\/p>\n And I do.<\/p>\n Every single time.<\/p>\n Because I know exactly what that smile means.<\/p>\n I’m here.<\/p>\n I’m alive.<\/p>\n And I got another Sunday.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" THE SUNDAY CHARLENE REFUSED TO TAKE ME TO CHURCH Every Sunday for nine years, Charlene from the choir drove me to church. I was seventy-six, and Charlene had been … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":11340,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[13],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-11339","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-new-post"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/senglee168.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11339","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/senglee168.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/senglee168.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/senglee168.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/senglee168.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=11339"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/senglee168.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11339\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":11341,"href":"https:\/\/senglee168.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11339\/revisions\/11341"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/senglee168.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/11340"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/senglee168.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=11339"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/senglee168.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=11339"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/senglee168.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=11339"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}