Senile Puppet of God

I was at the doctor’s office about six months ago. I was there because I was convinced that I was having heart problems. In reality, I was having acid reflux, panic attacks, and a case of being stoned too much. My doc had listed to my heart and given me an EKG and told me that everything seemed fine. She wanted some labs run and it was while I sitting on a bench in a hall way waiting to be called in for them to take my blood. I felt a hand on my leg and I looked over to see a pair of bright blue eyes contrasted by pale, wrinkled skin and thin, frizzy, silver hair look at me.
"You’re just a little boy." She said. It was as though she read my mind, I was sitting on that bench truly believing that if I lived to see 30 it would be a miracle. The lady then began talking to a nurse and showing her obvious dementia. I don’t know what to feel about that whole thing, but it feels significant, like God was giving me shout. I still think that I’m dying and still not convinced that I won’t die tomorrow, but it’s nice to know that I was offered a little reassurance.