My anxious moments only involve professionals wearing white coats or flying.

This week I experienced the feeling sans doctors appointments or boarding a plane.

I was headed to a Broadway matinee.

This was my first solo foray since surgery.

Butterflies settled in so I passed on lunch.

I readied myself and felt hot under the collar even with the AC on high.

I walked the 2 blocks to the MTA. I took the stairs like a champ down into the subway without touching the railing.

Through the turnstile for the first time in months, I clung to the wall and surprisingly so did literally every single person who waited in the humid tunnel for the next train just in case crazies were lurking, ready to toss a human onto the tracks (yes, this is the new normal in the underground).

I had never ever witnessed not one single person waiting by the yellow line.

The train was relatively empty which surprised me when suddenly, a twenty-something couple stood grinding and making out perhaps an inch from my personal space.

Get a room or a park bench, but get outta my face.

Thankfully, it was only 2 stops and I was ready to rumble up the 3 staircases. I drunkenly made it without bodily contact with the railing, but I did stop once outside to disengage from my mask and breathe relatively fresh air.

I walked the 4 blocks to the theater dodging unobservant pedestrians while using my cane as body armor.

The staff at the Lunt-Fontanne Theatre were fabulous.

I was directed to the box office for ticket retrieval and I inquired as to whether I needed to go back outside and stand in the very long line for Sweeney Todd entry.

The guard said to check with him after I had my ticket.

The woman at the box office was a dream. I asked if I had an aisle seat. She checked and we started talking about the world and kindness while she was busy writing.

She then handed me a piece of paper and said enjoy. I had no idea what she did, but I thanked her profusely.

The guard then escorted me through the theater entrance and led me to the usher.

For a moment I was the only person in the theater. You could feel the magic.

The usher took the slip of paper and told me I had a fabulous seat and then led me to the fifth row center aisle seat.

Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street is a theater classic. The audience was insanely appreciative.

Annaleigh Ashford’s performance is utterly incredible.

I left elated and then met my daughter for a wonderful dinner at an iconic Manhattan steakhouse. We indulged because our pescatarian is away on business.

The end of the meal the adorable server brought over a decadent chocolate dessert to celebrate my recovery.

My daughter then graciously ordered me a Lyft home.

No more anxiety, just feeling blessed, grateful and appreciative for an amazing day filled with kindness and patience as I matriculated back into society.

And, of course, thankful for the best daughter ever.