My friends in the medical professions have told me many times that there is no such thing as "minor" surgery. However, that's the term my doctor is using, so I'll take his word for it. It's the go-home-the-same-day type of thing, though I'm expected to be somewhat groggy and out of sorts (ill-assorted, unsorted?), so a friend from church has volunteered to drive me.

It's hard to ask for help and even harder to accept it. Actually, I was going to cancel the procedure, or take a taxi, when my friend Linda said, "No, no, no, my dear. We have a Pastoral Care Committee just waiting to help friends/members in need. Call them." Well, I dithered and mumbled and made excuses, so she call them on my behalf.

They were delighted to be asked and happy to help me. I'm still practicing, "Thank you," without all the other modifiers and apologies attached. If the situation were reversed, I'd be jumping at the chance to help a friend; why is it so difficult to accept the offer when extended? It's clearly a pleasure for my friend to assist me; my excuses and demurs make it less pleasant for her and I will stifle them. But why do I hesitate and object; why do I feel vaguely guilty?

Something for me to meditate on.