As I write this today, I am sore - but it's a "good" sore. My legs and my back and even my neck all hurt, but just a little. I spent the weekend locked away at a hotel with an indoor water park, enjoying my son, daughter, and grand baby. We had a great time. My almost 9-year-old son begged for someone to go down the "BIG" slides with him. Now these are long tube slides that actually leave the building and then weave back in. Though I have been to this water park in the past, I have NEVER ventured onto them. I stick with the kiddie pool, the lazy river, and occasionally the smaller slides. I thought my son was satisfied with having his big sister ride these with him. She wanted to, she did, and everyone was happy. My daughter liked being able to ride with her little brother, and I liked playing in the water with my beautiful little granddaughter. I had no desire to ride the big slides because, other than plain fear, I had this little nagging voice telling me, "you have a heart condition; read the sign - it clearly says that anyone with a heart condition should not ride this..." OK, so I had an "out". But my son wouldn't stop asking. He wanted so badly for me to experience the rush that he was enjoying. I told my daughter, "No, I can't ride that." "I didn't even go tubing this summer when we went to Texas. The tow ropes would have pulled on my pacemaker incision." I thought this would satisfy everyone. But, oh no, of course not. My son reminded me that I DID, in fact, go tubing with him, and liked it very much. Darn, how did I forget that? So finally I relented and, against my better judgement, told him I would go with him. Just walking to the top was several stories up and I truly didn't know if I would even make the climb. But thankfully there were landings and I made it without too much heavy breathing. The very first ride was, I admit, scary. But the pure joy on my son's face was worth it. When we made the long climb back up for another ride, he wanted me to try one of the other slides. One of them was a dark tunnel and one was translucent. I said I wanted to take the one that had light coming in. He assured me I was on that one, and he took the dark one. Little did I know that the tubes actually cross each other outside the building and I was, in fact, in the one that sends you hurling through the darkness. Ha ha - very funny joke, son. He was so pleased with himself. After that, it was "on" as we raced down the slides a few more times. So much fun and I would have missed it all.
When I made the decision to go ahead and try to walk up the stairs, and slide down the first time, I was listening to another voice. Not the nagging one that said, "you can't do that...you're a heart patient". I was listening to a mother's heart wanting to please her son. But I learned something yesterday from that little guy. Don't quit too soon. There will be plenty of time to sit on the sidelines when you truly don't have the strength and energy to run and play. Until then, go and and "take the plunge". It's worth it.
To your health,
Tari
