On
Monday, I go into the hospital for an infusion. It’s my first one and I’m a
little scared. I’ve been told I will have some notable side effects. Chills,
nausea, diarrhea and other flu like symptoms. They will last a few days, maybe
a week. My health has seen it’s share of ups and downs throughout the years.
But the past two years in particular have been brutal. I have so many problems attacking my body all
at once, that it’s hard to wrap my brain
around them. Suffice to say, I’m suffering the effects of all these symptoms
and struggling to deal with them. As a result, I have found myself spending
more time, really appreciating the world around me. The little things… like the
cool crisp, night air, filling up my lungs, as I gaze at a million specks of light
in the sky. Wondering to myself, what civilizations are out there, and how
advanced are they? Feeling the crunch of
brightly colored orange, yellow and amber leaves that have fallen, under my
feet, as I walk to the edge of the drive. Later, sitting on my dilapidated
sofa, calling my mom, on the east coast. A daily ritual since my dad died. She
still misses him terribly. I turn to see my hubby curled up, asleep on his
recliner, snoring so loud it rattles the glasses in the cupboard. It makes me
smile, just for a moment. I think it’s wonderful, in spite of everything, that
my grandchildren are eagerly embracing their teenage years. They are so
innocent about the ways of the world, and how cruel it can be. My heart aches
for their future. Their puppy Flynn enthusiastically romping around the yard
brings instant joy. I love my grandpuppy. Then there is me, running into my
oldest at Walmart wearing a bright vest, helping customers use the self
checkout. She puts in a forty hour work week at the hospital in the billing
department. She hasn’t had a raise in years. After that shift ends, she comes here,
to put in another thirty five hours for the week, just to make ends meet. I’m
so proud of her. But worried sick about how exhausted she must be. My youngest,
so far away from home, grappling with the wrath of covid19. We talk and text. I hear the fear in her voice, amid the hidden
optimism, that in the end, everything will be alright. I pray she’s right. My
emotional support kitty Mira, is my faithful companion, never leaving my side.
It has been a tough year for her and us, missing her sissy Dara who passed. I
have two other, dear lifelong friends, who boost my spirits when the bottom
falls out and help me celebrate the little victories. And last but not least, I
have you… all my sweet, wonderful blog buddies who keep the stories coming,
about your life adventures, trials and tribulations. I live vicariously through each of you. It’s enough... my life. So much to be grateful for, so much to cherish. So… one little infusion, in the big scheme of
things, is going to be a piece of cake. It won't break me. And life will go on…
