Before I get into my subject matter for this evening's post, many of you have emailed to ask what I decided in regard to having surgery on my finger. Thank you for your concern, and a special thank you to those of you who made me laugh out loud ... some of your suggested natural remedies for removing bone spurs were pretty darned funny. I think my favorite was the one that involved rubbing a live frog on my finger while I jumped up and down and counted to 100. Ummm ... never ever gonna happen, friend ... never, never, never ever gonna happen. My children are all in agreement that I should go ahead and have the surgery, so I'm scheduled for the end of April. I probably won't be able to do much writing for a few days afterwards ... unless of course I try Brad's suggestion and tape a popsicle stick on end of the splint to enable me to type. I'm pretty sure that wouldn't work so well, but you never know until you try, right?
I made an important decision last year when the company I work for won the Sonic account and new employees began to join our ranks ... I decided to be myself. I've mentioned in previous posts that I'm responsible for helping new employees fill out their paperwork and making them feel welcome as they settle in with our company. But what I hope I really do during those orientation sessions with the new folks is to let them know they have a friend in me right from the start. To many of the younger gals and guys (and some of the older ones as well), I'm sort of the office mom ... they come to me to put band-aids on their ouchies (both physical and emotional, by the way) ... they come to me to console them in their grief ... they come to me to check their foreheads to see if they feel feverish ... they come to me to ask my advice on ... well ... just about everything you can possibly imagine. Though my co-workers think I'm helping them, they are the ones who are helping me ... they help me every time they need me, every time they hug me, every time they accept me.
I've written previously about the framed set of note cards that hangs on the wall by my desk ... handwritten note cards that were used in the Ears Wide Open? video. It's not unusual for new employees to ask me about the white signed note cards that rest starkly against a black background surrounded by a black frame ... it's an awesomely cool wall hanging that is worthy of explanation. Sometimes I shy away from a direct answer concerning the framed piece, telling the person that I'll tell them about it another day. But there are also times when I simply write the name of the video on a post-it note and say, "Watch this, and then if you don't hate me, come back and we'll chat." So far, every one of them has come back ... every single one of them has come back.
Last week, two young men who joined our company over the last couple of months watched our video at separate times in separate places. One of the young men came to me on Thursday and the other on Friday ... tears in their eyes as they wrapped their strong arms around me and told me ... well ... they told me lots of things. They blinked back tears as they asked, "How could anyone ever hate you, Terrie?" And at the end of each conversation, the boys hugged me again and told me they were really glad I'm still around. They did something else, too ... each one of the young men thanked me ... yep ... both of those boys thanked me. They said, "Thank you for being you, Terrie." Those boys had no idea how much I wanted to shout, "No, no, no!! Thank you ... thank you for being you ... thank you for being awesome you!"
Let's hear it for the boys, friends ... let's hear it for the boys.
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