As most of you probably know by now, I had to take my mother to the hospital this morning for some minor outpatient surgery on her wrist (they were attempting to repair some muscle damage associated with Carpel Tunnel Syndrome). After waiting for more than 3 hours, I was called back into the recovery room to talk to the doctor that performed the surgery and then to the nurse who gave me instructions on what not to let her do, etc.
As most of you probably also know, I can’t stand blood, guts, needles, surgery, or anything relating to any of them. Simply being in the recovery area, looking at all the tubes from the IV and the heart and respiration monitor totally freaked me out. By the time my mom was ready to get dressed to leave, the nurse had me go back out into the waiting room and wait, simply because I was about to pass out (or vomit all over the floor, one).
I suppose the most notable thing about this morning, however, was the paperwork I had to sign upon her discharge. When I looked down at the line I had to sign and read the caption “Signature of Responsible Adult”, I realized something.
I’m an adult now.
Like, a real adult.
Yes, that was the first moment when I realized the cold hard reality of my life. The moment when I realized that I’m not a kid anymore and that there’s no going back.
And so I started thinking. When did this happen? When did I suddenly become responsible? When did I become this “Adult” person? What did it? I’ve been working since I was 15 (as soon as I could drive on my own), then the car payment, and then the credit card. Which one did it? Which one ripped the childhood I’d never really had to enjoy away from me?
I watched Garden State the other night (mainly for Natalie Portman). There’s one line I remember from the movie, in which Andrew (played by Zach Braff of “Scrubs” fame) is talking about that feeling of “home” you always have as a kid, and how you wake up one day and realize that that feeling is gone, and you spend years trying to get it back, until you finally get married and create that sense of “home” for your own family. It’s really scary, but I think today was the first time I ever really felt that feeling. I don’t know if it’s permanent, or if it will eventually fade away when things in my life slowly return to normal, but it scares me - a lot.
I’m not ready to be an adult yet, but I know I can’t cling to childhood forever, so where does that leave me?
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