By James Scott Bell
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The drive to the hospital was bad, Maddie moaning all the way, tears falling. But the waiting in the emergency room for a doctor was worse. I had to go muck around with the desk over insurance, Maddie screaming at me not to leave her alone. When I got back to her bed, a doctor was there. He looked like a humorless Bob Newhart. He spoke in a monotone and only registered an expression when I told him what happened. The expression was a raising of the eyebrows. He asked Maddie some questions, looked in her eyes with a light, touched her head in a couple of places.
At least I gave up drinking when I found out Paula was going to have our baby. The anger, though, was about to have a field day. 5 We had a game, Maddie and I, that was her all-time favorite. I called it Maddie’s Buried Treasure. I did not simply give her gifts, or candy, or something fun. I put it in a little box or bag and hid it somewhere in the apartment. ” Which would make her giggle and scurry all over the apartment. I had to get more and more clever about finding good hiding spots. One time I bought a box of Nerds, her favorite candy, and a little squish ball and left them in the Rite-Aid bag along with the receipt.
He wants all of it. He claims his rightful place at the center of our lives. ” Now I started to squirm around a little bit. I think my mind was telling my body that God was certainly not in the center of my life, not the very center. “God is not willing to be put on the shelf with all of the other deities, to be installed as part of our personal pantheon of gods. Maybe I’ll try praying to God to meet my needs, and if that doesn’t work, I’ll try a little Zen Buddhism, and if that doesn’t work, I’ll try wealth and power, maybe some self-actualization.