To the woman at the pharmacy,
Not the one who stared at me and my children like I was a disgusting pile of filth.
The other woman, with only kindness in her eyes. Thank you.
While I was trying to fill a script and my children who, overtired, started tipping the boxes of cold and flu tablets over while my baby was screaming in my arms. You saved me.
You distracted my children and took my baby from my arms.
You gave them lollipops and told them a funny story. They were captivated by you.
You didn’t know it, but I had been waiting for 45 minutes, I had called up and they told me my script was ready. I thought I’d be in and out, I thought it would be a good opportunity for the kids to get outside and give them a treat. You didn’t know they stuffed up my script, twice. I was there to fill scripts for ADHD medication and anti-depressants.
You didn’t know it, but my anxiety was through the roof and I was ready to burst into tears.
I gave them ice cream and their sugar high was meant to be worn out at the playground but because it took so long, they used that energy in the pharmacy. I was trying to talk to the pharmacist and listen because being on your last week of pills is like standing on the edge of a cliff.
Everyone heard me, even the pharmacist could hear the panic and my voice quivering. You didn’t know it but it’s a mammoth effort for me to get out confidently with all three. I regretted it as soon as they started screaming and the head shakes and annoyed glances came my way.
You told me you had three kids too, but they were all at your mother's that day. You told me you understood and I felt in my heart you did.
You didn’t know me but you saved me from my own mind, my feelings of inadequacy and self doubt. I would have never gone back to that chemist and It would have taken me a long time to go out again for fear of the same thing happening again.
I’ve been on the other side so many times and have been you, and I’ve been thanked profusely, and I never understood how much it meant to them until today.
You didn’t know it, but you saved me. So thank you.
Mama village-ing done right.
This post was written by Laura Mazza of Mum on the Run and reprinted with permission.