Finally. A comprehensible sentence. A complete thought. An ability to stand without tipping over. Oh, yeah baby, it’s day six!
Last Friday, Mary and I strode into the hospital fully prepared for either a 7.0 earthquake or an adult daycare outing to the zoo. We had a canvas tote, a messenger bag, a backpack, and a large Playmate cooler. Among our stockpile was People Magazine, cubed watermelon, lemon drops, flushable wipes, goldfish crackers, homeopathic remedies and a four-pack of ginger beer, which turned out to be my saving grace.
After being told the chemo package would take two-to-three hours, we were nonplussed when it took six. Who cares when you have an endless supply of artificial tears and free Wi-Fi? My “power port” was everything I wanted and more. The company’s 3-D, four-color brochure hadn’t lied. (Like plugging in a toaster.)
The drive home felt almost giddy. Me in my steroidal glow and Mary in the blush of her denial. A pink-ribbon miracle maybe? Perhaps. Not. No matter. During that 60-minute blur through Indiana farmland, we almost believed we’d gotten away with something.
Hang in there, friend. Enjoy the up days (or glimpses of up moments in the midst of down days). Hugs.
I know…it’s a hell of a ride. So glad you were prepared with good stuff. I’m 3 down 1 to go and the night sweats are just astonishing. There is no possible way this can’t make us stronger. It just HAPPENS. Attitude is so much, and yours is wonderful.
My good thoughts are with you as we ride, ride, ride.