It’s clear some quirk in the human psyche pushes some of us to tell our friends about our health disasters. (I consider cutting a persons leg bone off just to attach a bionic knee one of those disastrous events. And the thought of a new shoulder gives me the chills. Hips? Hmm. At least that’s on the outside of the body. Still…who really wants a new one?)
There is also some quirk in the human psyche which skips the part about letting me know how it turned out. I mean, why invite me on a medical journey and then leave me stranded on the shore?
That’s why I spend some mornings growling at those who neglect to keep me updated about the problems they just had to tell me about in the first place.
But to be charitable, perhaps it’s fear of what might be coming that urges us to enlist an army of friends to send prayers and best wishes in times of crisis or perceived crisis. And perhaps once the fear is conquered or the crisis dealt with, we just forget to let people know it. For me, a simple message will do. As my two year old granddaughter said when she fell, “I okay.”