When I was little, and my mom would take I-30W from I-35W, I would immediately feel a shadow of dread fall over me. That route always meant we were headed to my pediatrician’s office, which is where my current anxiety over doctors and white lab coats in general originated.
But, as I got older, and needed less and less trips to the doctor (either I was a sickly little kid, or had a paranoid mother, one of the two!), taking that specific highway became less terrifying. Instead of meaning doctors and examinations, it meant the zoo, shopping, book browsing (RIP, University St. Barnes & Noble), and, later on, trips to the Apple store.
But… we’ve now come full circle. I’m scared again.
I now take 30W every single day. I get off on Summit, and I can feel my heart fall as I get closer to the hospital district.
When the cream colored walls of the children’s hospital comes into view, with its big blue turrets at the top to give the illusion of a castle in an attempt to mask what the building truly means, I can feel the tears pricking in my eyes.
What will happen here today? Will we add something else to the list? What will we discover? What tests will come back abnormal? What doctor will look at us and search quickly for some comforting words and a silver lining?
Once again, 30W has become the highway to avoid. The villainous road. The route I have to force my car to take, even though I much rather exit earlier onto 20W and head to the mall, or Central Market or Buy Buy Baby, WITH my precious 4-week-old in tow.
I used to love 30W. And, now I don’t.