The story of this rock…

  
If you ever see me, I will have this rock. Either in my pocket or in my hand. I am never ever without it. People give me strange looks when they find me fidgeting with a rock, and I want to tell its story.

On September 2nd, 2014, I had been in IPC for four days. My doctor, Dr. Blodgett, sat down with me in his office and we were chatting about what I am going to do today. This was the second time I have seen Dr. Blood get, the first time was when I was in the surgical ward for malnutrition. During the first stay, we had gotten to talk about my likes and dislikes and so on. One of the things I mentioned was that I absolutely adore petrified wood.

So, while we were chatting in his office, he reached into his bag and pulled out this rock. He said that his wife collects rocks and gave this one to me to keep. She had found it thirty years ago and it was rock tumbled through the river. Which means the rock was naturally polished and in its true form. He let me touch it and gave it to me when I was released from IPC.

Since then, it has been very dear to my heart. It is kind of like my lucky charm or my worry stone as my great grandfather would call them. I take it every where with me and I hold it in my hand when I am anxious or stressed. I love it. I don’t know if this interests you, but I find it helps to bring my anxiety down. Which I will do anything that helps.

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