Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Laughter




Okay. The pictures I have here are not the only ones I wish I had. Those would have been of Kathleen, when we got back here after her chemo, shoving a snake out of the hen house with a large stick.

However, she didn't seem to want to wait for me to go get the camera. Now WHY IS that?
I don't know.

Damn oak snake. It had an egg down his throat and looked like a cobra or a toad with a very, very long tail as it crawled along the ground with Kathleen pushing it with the stick. Gently. He got through the old wire fence with some delicate maneuvering (the egg inside it was almost as big as the opening in the fence wire) and then settled in to get the egg down to whatever part of a snake is his belly, knowing full well that we couldn't reach him through the fence.

Darn snake. And I'd really be bitching except that I have four dozen eggs in my refrigerator and that is about three and a half dozen more than I conceivably need.

Judy had gotten NO sleep last night, finishing up a grant proposal which had to be in the mail today and which she's been working on for months.


I had gotten a few hours of sleep myself, but not nearly enough. So we were not a very energetic trio today.

Well, except for Kathleen. She was full of energy and happy as could be. They gave her enough Benedryl to stop a horse in its tracks but she stayed awake for most of the treatment today and we all actually had a fine time, chatting away. She was wide awake when the tea cart ladies came by and had a cup of Irish Breakfast tea.

When we got to the hospital this morning, an elderly man was sitting in another chair in the room getting his treatment. He was black as ebony and had a voice which sounded more like song than speech. He was from St. Thomas and when we asked him how many children he'd had, he said, "I've had none. My wife had seven."

And then he laughed and so did we.

It's not as nearly as depressing in the chemo-treatment department of the hospital as you'd think.

In fact, at one point I laughed so hard I almost fell out of my chair.
I had asked Kathleen what she had done to get ready for her father's visit. He is coming on Saturday and I know for certain the girl is not going to feel like doing much of anything and her daddy is old and hardly capable of getting out of a chair without assistance, much less cooking or even getting a glass of water for himself or Kathleen and I was thinking that maybe she'd laid in some frozen dinners or something.
But no. She looked at me with all the seriousness in the world and said, "Well, I've gotten eight small Cokes and a bag of lemon cookies."
And I waited. Because surely, that couldn't be it.
But it was.
And when I realized that, I just exploded with laughter.
"What?" she asked. "You don't think that's enough?"
He's staying for a week.

Ah-lah. That girl.

So it was a good day and we're home and she's lying down after her chemo-and-snake-adventures. I'm going to make some squash soup for her and we're just relaxing. Mr. Moon is going to go see Owen and play Poker in town tonight so we won't be seeing him until late so we'll just have a nice little evening, the two of us.

I think Judy plans to pitch a bit of a get-her-drink on tonight. She mailed her grant proposal (and this is one of those things which could change her life in a very, very good way) and then went directly to the liquor store. She's such a good girl, that Judy. She went and fed Kathleen's animals before she went home. I have a feeling she'll be in bed before nine tonight. And I may be too.
And that's all right.

We all need, as Bob Rosenberg said, a relax.

And one more thing. You know I couldn't leave the hospital without taking this picture:

It was just a-waggling and a blowing in the breeze today. It cracked me up again.
Another reason to laugh in the chemo ward.
And laughter may be the best medicine or it may just be what you need to get through getting the medicine or it may just be a very, very good thing.

Whatever. There was plenty of it today. And isn't that just a very fine thing?
I think it is.
I do.

13 comments:

  1. Damn, I am sorry you missed the snake-pushing photo op; it would have been such a nice juxtaposition with her beautiful lovely head, wouldn't it?

    Hugs to all of you.

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  2. I love those small sodas! Good judgment call!

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  3. Well I declare, you all were bringing sunshine to the hospital! I too believe you need to spread some laughter for healing. I sure wish I could have heard the man from St. Thomas voice....
    Give Kathleen a hug and have her give you a hug...it's from little ol' me...her life has been turned upside down but her smile shines forth!

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  4. Kathleen is a goddess -- truly she has wisdom shooting out of that magnificent head.

    As are you -- a snake goddess.

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  5. Your camera would take a perfectly good video of the waggling air weiner. If you so choose to share that with us...

    Kathleen looks beautiful and I see she prepares for company like I do!

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  6. What a day -- will write tomorrow.

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  7. It does sound as if you all made the most of what could have been a not so good time. That flying condom at the hospital is great. Kathleen's head looks rubbable.

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  8. I woulda killed that damn snake with a pitchfork.

    Kathleen looks gorgeous.

    xoxoxo

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  9. I agree with Steph. Kathleen has a great head! So maybe when her dad gets here she'll throw a little coke and lemon cookie party?!! That was good!

    Hey what was the grant for? I'm interested in grants and every time someone goes for one or gets one, I find it so exciting!

    Also, do be careful with those snakes... Marc recently found a six foot rattler in the pole barn.
    xo

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  10. Kathleen is fortunate--she has you and Judy and her own amazing character.

    I'm so glad you were with her today!

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  11. I love the photo of Kathleen.

    Also, thank you for the snake story. You know how SB loves to be scared and grossed out by snakery.

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