So I made it into the club...the “Bloody Thumbs” club. I have heard many stories of those that have made it in before me. I guess it was only a matter of time with the way I would proudly boast the praises of my pink Otterbox as if it had some magical protective power.
The other night while walking along one of the brick roads of St. Augustine, my phone jumped out of my hand, face first. It wasn't the first time but for some reason my trusted case failed me this time around. For my fellow club members, you know that horrible feeling when it happens. I wanted to cuss. And then I wanted to cry.
My husband's words echoed in my head, “It's just a phone.” I tried to believe his words, but the fact that I was so upset made realize it is actually more than just an phone. In a lot of ways, it has become an idol for me.
I have come to rely on my phone for so many reasons. For example, I write almost all my blog posts in my DayOne journal on my phone before publishing them from my laptop. My camera allows me to capture those moments that no longer need a thousand words. Not to mention, my chemo brain relies heavily on the logistics of my calendar and reminders apps.
While none of these things are bad, it can become a slippery slope. It is the first thing I look at in the morning and the last thing I look at before bed. It often feels like my access to the outside world, but isn't the contact I really desire to have. And perhaps more dangerous than anything else, it has the potential to steal away precious moments with my family.
I don't imagine I will be able to hang with my busted screen for long but am thankful for the reminder to keep first things first. In the meantime, pass the band aids!