245 Mr. Bear

Our listener Susan called in to tell us about finding an unexpected X-Ray while cleaning out her garage. An X-Ray that brought back some sweet memories. 

Transcripts may not appear in their final version and are subject to change.

I’m Nora McInerny, and It’s Going To Be Okay. 

This show is a group project, where we find one small thing everyday that makes us feel happy. Sometimes we bring you those okay things, and sometimes you submit them.  

Today’s okay thing comes from Susan Allen, who sent us a voice memo. 

Hi, Nora and everything will be okay  ers. While cleaning out my garage, I came across a large manila envelope.  In it, I expected to find pictures of my daughter, Emmy, in all her adorable toddler ness, but instead I touched an unexpected texture.  It’s thicker and feels odd.  I pull out a metallic silvery gray sheet.

There’s an x-ray of Mr. Bear in my hands.  Mr. Bear was the stuffed polar bear that was the love of my daughter’s young life. She carried him everywhere and couldn’t sleep without him. 

Once in the Atlanta airport, we almost lost Mr. Bear. A very pregnant lady chased after us. Ma’am, ma’am, is this your bear? I nearly threw my arms around her and blessed her unborn child. 

Without Mr. Bear, there would have been no sleep for anyone on that trip.  But why, do you ask, do I have an x-ray of Mr. Bear? Well, 1 day when Emmy was almost 2, she and I were playing with colorful alphabet magnets that usually lived on the fridge. 

I was spelling words for her on the living room table.  She picked 2 of the magnets up and put 1 of them in her mouth.  I told her to take it out, but instead, being her feisty toddler self, she shook her head no and turned around.  When I looked in her mouth, the magnet was gone and nowhere to be found.  I called her pediatrician, and they said to take her to the ER just to be safe. 

Of course, Mr. Bear came along.  At the hospital, the doctor quizzed me about what happened.  Specifically, which letter had she swallowed?  Apparently, an l or an I was likely to pass on through and no big deal, end up in her diaper. 

Kirby letters like b’s and z’s could be more problematic.  I told the doctor I had absolutely no idea what letter it was, terrible parent that I am.  So in abundance of caution, x rays for Emmy’s abdomen were ordered.  When the technician saw mister Bear, he decided to have a little fun, and our furry friend got his own electromagnetic scan.  Much to my surprise and the delight of the nurses and doctors, neither Emmy nor mister Bear had a magnet in their tummy. 

So my okay thing is this.  Even in the chaotic world of airports and ERs, there are people who care about stressed out parents, little girls, and their lovies.  My daughter is a senior at UCLA now and is planning to go into some sort of medicine.  Mr. Bear is in 1 of these boxes. 

I plan to bring him to her graduation.  His very loved fur absorbed a lot of tears back in the day. A few more happy ones won’t hurt.