My son, Jackson, was admitted to the hospital on Monday. He has asthma and had a severe enough attack that his lips began to turn blue. At any rate, he hates hospitals, more to the point he hates IVs (can't say I blame him) as well as being awakened at 2:00 a.m. just to have blood pressure checked. He told every nurse, respiratory therapist and doctor who saw him how much he hated it there, how much he missed his dog Moose and how much he wanted to go home. (He was delighted when we told him Moose went potty and poop in his room while he was gone; must be a guy thing.)
His sister, Jennie, has recently expressed an interest in Buddhism and she now has a little 3 inch Buddha which she gave to Jackson on Monday. He kept it by his bedside. This morning the doctor said he might release Jackson but that he needed to check some records at his office first. Jackson immediately grabbed the little Buddha and rubbed his fat tummy frantically saying over and over, "I want out! Please Buddha!! I want out! Please Buddha!!"
The doctor called later and said he would release Jackson to go home. I asked Jackson if he thought Buddha got him out of the hospital. He rolled his eyes, looked at me with an indulgent and patient look and said, as if explaining to one simple minded, "Daddy. No, of course not."
So Jackson is home, Moose is re-learning where do to his business and Buddha is resting comfortably.