last night I am struggling to sleep. I have my CPAP on, but I am feeling uncomfortable. I am stressed. I worry about the finances, how I am going to pay for everything. What will happen to our little family of me and my partner? I succumbed to a few cigarettes and will I be turned away on the day of the op when they test for smoking? I have stopped smoking, really I have, since 1 January. Never thought I would, but when one has to, one has to.
And will everything work out fine? And this pre-op diet, how does it exactly work? The diet I received from the dietician is full of info and this and that and here and there and everything is going around and around in my head.
Will I be healthy?
Will I be ok?
Will I live?
Won’t I die? I know I won’t. But really, really, won’t I?
And then suddenly, through the window (only open ajar) comes the praying mantis and sits on my inner left arm, and looks me straight in the eye.
And there he sits, the whole night. Next to me. Just sitting around, praying. Bringing me a message of peace.
The praying mantis is the oldest symbol of God: the African Bushman’s manifestation of God come to Earth, “the voice of the infinite in the small,” a divine messenger.
The mantis comes to us when we need peace, quiet and calm in our lives.
I think everything might just be ok.
Tomorrow only THREE WEEKS LEFT!!
obeasta 