Last Thursday, exactly two weeks into my new oral chemo the
side effects kicked in. Friday, I woke
up really weak but kept thinking all I needed was a good breakfast to get back
my energy. I sat at one of the tables
next to the breakfast line too weak to stand.
A young woman offered to buy my oatmeal, “you do so much for us, allow
me do this for you, my prayers are with you”, I tried hard not to cry. I stopped by employee health and Georgia
Thomas caringly told me to go home. All
day Friday I slept, MaryBeth woke me a few times with soup and water, but
Saturday I felt even weaker.
Saturday afternoon I told MaryBeth I needed to go to the
emergency room and erroneously told her we needed permission from BCBS. After several frustrating calls to get permission,
we finally reached my primary care physician who after listening suggested I
was dehydrated. My temperature had
almost reached 100, and although I had stopped vomiting, my diarrhea had
continued. Immediately, MaryBeth forced
me to drink, and I ate almost a complete box of whole wheat crackers, as
prescribed by my PCP. Saturday night I
felt better, and Sunday the grandkids came over, but I was still weak, so did
more watching than playing, but it was so good for my soul.
It had been years since I had bad dreams about passing so
suddenly I didn’t have a chance to say goodbye to those who had meant so
much. Several times in the Army when men
around me were killed the shock would harvest these dreams. In Fridays dreams, I was lying there unable to
reach or say the things I so wanted to, to so many. Early this morning, as I passed by the
evening parking crew at Texas Children’s as I do every morning, they waved and
smiled as they do every morning. And it
dawned on me, if I passed suddenly, most would remember my smile and my passion
for life – and if that was all I got, it was a good goodbye.
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