lights, camera and... drip!

Chemo started today. Dr. Fein visited us last night to confirm the diagnosis. Has the jury reached a verdict? Yes your honor we have. The light changed as the sun set behind rain clouds and the room turned dark. We find the patient does have AML leukemia. White blood cells are not growing the way they should and are overpopulating, crowding out the other components of the blood including red blood cells and platelets. Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your service. The court sentences the cancer to death. WHAM! The pounding sound of the gavel striking the judge’s bench as the doctor spoke. The sentence to be served shall be a month in the hospital hooked up to a bag of drugs to basically kill you, but we’ll keep you alive until the bastard cells are dead. And if necessary, we’ll go back Jack and do it again.

I went to buy her a crosstitch something or another today. She needs to keep busy for the next four weeks, and needlework holds her attention. I looked at all the patterns and had a hard time deciding which one would be best. I was a fish out of water in a craft store – Mary Tyler More in the opening credits rolling her eyes tossing groceries in her basket. Then it hit me; I was shopping for my mother’s life. The kit I selected included some embroidery thread, but I splurged and bought some fancy marbled cords. One packet had yellows and golds, another had aquas and greens. I liked the pallet – it reminded me of the colors of the Keys. The thought was to replace the standard threads with the extraordinary ones making the design on the baby’s bib come alive! In facing fear, I would find courage in the infant’s aisle at Target.

Today is uh, umm… Thursday I think. That was yesterday, and I find myself in the garden again. Fay is no longer here but the missing umbrellas are a silent reminder of what was done earlier this week to prepare. Like the wig that’s still in the bag hiding under the sink in her room -- a symbol of getting ready for the worst. But we’re not there yet. Instead, she’s got everyone laughing at her wit, joking about strip dancing with the IV pole. Yup, that’s my mom. A few more wrinkles, a few less fears, and a baby’s bib to finish. Yeah, today is day 2 of 7.

I’m probably going home for the weekend to recharge my batteries and will return next week for the final days of chemo. Doc says those are the worst. Like the battery icon in the lower right corner of my laptop, I’m half-full. I’m now a caregiver and am very aware of the responsibilities to keep, but not so much to her. A direct connection to warm sunshine on a shallow sandy beach is my docking station as it always has been. Hard wired to the power supply. Shortly I will take my leave of the mainland and skim down US 1. The drive is so beautiful -- island hopping until I’m home at last – and the ghosts of generations past will be on board my barque and it will be okay.