Melissa + Avonlea
March 17, 2020
The following is an experience that I had during chemotherapy.
I saw my granddaughter, Avonlea, today. Melissa, her mom, put her in a baby pool filled with oranges and dandelions, in her living room. Melissa told her not to roll over, to lay flat. Avie obeyed the whole time, but every time Melissa spoke to her, Avie laughed at her, a real laugh, a full-out belly laugh.
Avie loved being among the oranges and dandelions. The oranges were massaging her body. She got such a kick out of Melissa… what she was saying, her tone, the pitch. Avie just laughed and laughed. I hope I remember that image for the rest of my days. It was fun and Melissa was loving it.
I also saw my son, Kevin. He was having a heart attack on my couch. He was crying. He knew he was having a heart attack and he knew no one was noticing. I eventually saw his face and alerted everyone. I have no idea of the outcome. I've now seen him quite often since I left chemo that day and all is well. I'm assuming it was a metaphor for something.
It was a pretty simple day and unfortunately, I didn't set myself up for success. I had expectations. NEVER have expectations! As Colleen likes to say, “Expectations are resentments waiting to happen. Expect nothing, appreciate everything.”
The nurses took out the STEROIDS from my drip and added something for the RLS. As soon as it hit me I was solidly sleeping. My nurse had to wake me. That never happens. I must have needed the rest and simplicity of sleep. God always gives what's best for me.
the next day
I was really loopy after chemo day and I really just wanted out of there (the hospital). Since the pandemic, my daughter, Colleen hasn’t been allowed to come in with me and help me walk. I swayed and staggered a bit to the elevator. Once the door closed, I had no idea why I was there. After about 10 seconds, I knew I had to press a button, but which one? So I pressed all of them. I figured when the door opened I’d know when to get off. I went all the way up and all the way down. After that, I just don’t remember. Colleen came to get me and she found me half asleep on a bench outside the hospital. She had to get out of the car to wake me and get me in the car. That never happened before. Yet a new experience in life. It all worked out.