My aunt Terence was a Sister of St. Joseph. She wielded enormous influence in my life. Once upon a time, many years ago, she suggested that I become a nun........ STOP LAUGHING.
Anyway, on days like today I have my regrets. Frankie called shortly before noon and told me that he thought he had broken his leg. I call the doctor, leave work, get him, go to the doctor and from there to the hospital. We wait an hour, they bring him in and X-Ray his leg. For some reason the X-Ray shows no damage (there is a visible lump just below his knee and it is painful). No one will speak directly to me because he is 18. He says "Let's go, this is stupid." We leave, the clerk chases us to the parking lot. They X-Rayed the wrong spot, please come back in. Frank says no. I know I missing important information here. It is hot. He is getting belligerent. No one has a satisfactory answer. We leave. I go back to work. Several hours later he cools to the point of reason. He is a hothead (no I don't know where he gets it) but he is in pain. We go back and he has more X-Rays. Now we wait for a call tomorrow.
I am relatively certain that had I become a nun I could have spent the afternoon sitting in a garden reading the Lives of The Saints or the the writings of St. Augustine. I recall the garden behind St. Columbkille's convent was lovely. It was lush and green with high walls and a fish pond.