“This is gonna be my last time…”

“This is gonna be my last time,” I told her.

The last time to get checked out, draw blood, get immunizations or prescription without any fear or fiscal burden.

The last time to have assistance in paying the larger parts of medical expenses.

It was going to be my last appointment with Tricare coverage and the last time I’d be seeing the receptionist who always remembered me.

For a good year or so I admitted myself into a journey of therapy and counseling to relieve myself of unnecessary stress and pain. Coming back to writing here is all part of the therapeutic process.

Every appointment I ever had, I was always greeted with a warm smile and a hello. She’d check me in without needing any identification from me. Kinda like jumping the line at an exclusive club, except that club is a sterilized establishment where ailments are taken care of and people are shocked by their actual weight versus what they lie about say.

Afterwards I’d always take a seat and chuckle and smile. As often this occurred, I wondered if it was a good thing or not that receptionists for a clinic knew me on a first name basis and would have me jump the line.

Regardless of that, telling her it was going to be my last time felt like departure from one chapter and embarking on another. Because I was going to lose coverage in the next two days (my twenty-sixth birthday was that Thursday) I couldn’t go to the clinic I was receiving care at. I had to bite the bullet and wade the waters of civilian healthcare coverage.

I was told that it wasn’t going to be that bad, but saying goodbye to providers who’ve taken good care of you made it all the more emotional and sentimental. Even my therapist whom I made a great connection and progress with, couldn’t take my new insurance plan through work. So I have to start over again with a new therapist. Looking forward to that.

But in all honesty…I know I’m gonna be okay. It feels nice doing all of this for myself, being responsible and shit. You know…adulting. It’s definitely empowering and feels good.

Writing again definitely feels good, too.

 

Ryan’s Banana Split Party

You know what I hate the most? Children suffering through unfortunate situations. I have such a soft spot in my heart for kids that it brings me to tears whenever I hear about a child having to go through tough and unfortunate situations or having their life cut short. A recent story in particular has brought me to tears with happy yet sad sentiment, the story about Ryan’s Banana Split Party.

21 month old Ryan Roberts

To summarize what is going on, Ryan Roberts is a child with down syndrome and a heart defect who is already kicking the bucket at just 21 months old. The parents have started a bucket list to help the child live his remaining days to the fullest. On that bucket list were simple things that many of us take for granted like riding a bike for the first time. Getting a speeding ticket was even on that list, which was written out by the hospital staff. And of course sharing a drink with your child on their 21st birthday, with the father and son Ryan sharing root beer as an appropriate substitute.

Mother Diane Roberts was interviewed by HLN and she said, “People kept asking, ‘What can I do for you?’ We didn’t want anything. We didn’t want the people to bring stuffed animals and balloons. His room is filled with balloons.” She then suggested, “…just go create a memory with your kids. Just go put a banana split down in front of your kids for dinner and watch their faces light up. No chicken, rice and broccoli tonight, just ice cream. They’re going to remember that forever.”

HLN’s Evening Express’ banana split

From this initial idea, family friends of the Roberts started a Facebook event page for everyone to enjoy a banana split in commemoration of Ryan Roberts. Users have joined the event and has started posting pictures to the page. As Amanda Sloane mentioned in the HLN article, “It’s hard to scroll through and not get a little teary-eyed at the overwhelming support from all of these people who have been touched by Ryan’s story.”

I’m still tearing up as I write this story, just amazed and overwhelmed by all the good that is out there. With such a disgusting and cruel world, it turns you a complete 180 to see an amount of genuine support from all the good that is still out there. So in commemoration of Ryan Roberts, I will enjoy a banana split.

So please go out and enjoy yourself a banana split. Share the moment with a loved one, document it and please post to the Facebook event page. If there’s anything to take from this story, it’s to take time to share a moment with a loved one. Whether it be a big or small, take time to create a genuine moment with someone. Because you never know when it’ll be too late.

Ryan Roberts, you enjoy your life and live it to the fullest.

To Ryan Roberts