Monday, November 15, 2010
So we went up to Thomasville this morning, Kathleen and Judy and I and checked into the cancer center. This was certainly not our first visit there but it was our first time for Kathleen to get chemo there.
We sat in the waiting room for a good long while but they finally called us and damn! only one person is allowed to go back to the "Infusion Suite" with each patient.
This totally fucked us up. We are used to being a team of three, not to mention the fact that Thomasville's cancer center has been just a delight in every way. No signs on the wall telling us not to use our cell phones and every one knows every one and there are muffins and Sarah Lee pastries for us to indulge in, not to mention coffee and oh yes, that adorable Dr. M.
So- we were like little children who had been given every thing they asked for and then suddenly denied a whim or wish - What?! Only one person can accompany the patient?
But that was the rule so we stuck to it and I stayed with Kathleen and Judy went outside and stretched out in the sun and I stayed with Kathleen while the nurse came and did her teaching and stuck a needle into Kathleen's new port and started the whole chemo process.
Here's what Kathleen looked like:
Ain't she cute?
And then I took my camera and walked around and took this picture of the walled garden outside:
I'm sensing a theme here. In Tallahassee, there was always that giant blown-up condom
across the way from where Kathleen got her chemo and now- well- is it just me- or is that trickling little terra-cotta pipe fountain just the least bit phallic?
Whatever. It was so much more pleasant in Thomasville. The nurses seemed far more sure of themselves, the whole process went smoother and much more professionally and there was plenty of real sunshine, coming in through the windows.
After Kathleen got settled in, Judy and I took off to run some errands in Thomasville. We went to the tractor store and the Goodwill. That was fun. And then we went downtown to find lunch. As I have mentioned, Thomasville is one of the prettiest old southern towns you can imagine. Her are two images I caught:
The Buster Brown Shoe Store is no longer there but the sign is. How many of you remember that sign? And the X-Ray machine? Oh my god. Well.
This is just a throw-away shot with the old brick road, the beautiful old buildings and a rather gorgeous cloud arrangement.
When we got back to the cancer center, I took a picture of the fountain out front with a crow who had been drinking deep of the fountain's waters in front.
While they were finishing up the last of the chemo, Kathleen asked me if I would make home-made pizza tonight.
Oh hell yes.
Here it was before it went into the oven:
Onions, garlic, peppers, spinach, olives, mushrooms, sliced tomatoes.
Here it is after we ate our fill:
I am not even kidding you.
It was freaking good pizza.
And now Kathleen is in bed and I'm going to bed soon myself.
It's been a GOOD day because I got to spend it with women I love and finish it off by making something with my hands that pleased one of those women.
It's supposed to rain tomorrow. Storm maybe. We need rain so badly and we watched the clouds building up all afternoon and we are hoping for the best. It doesn't FEEL like it's going to rain but my joints ache like hell so maybe it will.
I'll tell you the truth- I feel at peace right now. I feel as if this day has been filled with what I was supposed to be doing.
And really- that's all I ask. That I feel that what I do is what it is that I've been put here for. To hold a hand, to drive the car, to feed the chickens, to make the pizza, to knit a few rows, to wash the dishes, to do some laundry.
Tomorrow I'll be taking care of Owen. I hope the rain pours down. I want to show that boy the rain from the porch, the lightening from the sky. I want to feed him pizza too.
And for right now, this feeling of being at peace is so sweet that I could weep.
But I don't feel like crying and that's good.
I've cried enough in the last few days.
Sleep well, y'all. Let's all sleep well and heal from whatever ails us.