My dad likes to say, How many meals do you eat in your life? Now: how many do you remember?
So they had this plan, with my son saying the credit for the idea goes to his wife. I had a bit of a lingering cough but they decided that that wouldn’t stop anything.
He was already at the airport when he got the word that, uh…
He got on that plane anyway. We could bring the food home if need be. We were going to celebrate my milestone birthday (early, while his sister was still in town; she’s getting on a plane herself as I type.) He was going to take the four of us out to my favorite restaurant, Flea Street Cafe, with reservations for early enough for him to arrive back home again near midnight.
Meantime, having no idea of any of this, I started off the day really stupid: it was one of the days I’m supposed to change the dressing on my ileostomy, and if I put that off by a day sometimes it fails. Not often, but once was enough. You’re not supposed to eat or drink before you do that change. I felt wretched but was just going to soldier through.
Except I couldn’t. Had I been clear-headed, the fact that my kidneys start to shut down if I don’t drink eight ounces every two waking hours would have entered my brain. Not drinking also means I hadn’t taken the med that keeps my blood pressure up. Totally forgot it. (Flashing back to the nurse who exclaimed, 80/40?! How did you walk IN here?! Same way you did, I told her.)
My husband, knowing what was up, got me to drink something around noon when it was clear how badly I needed it, encouraged me towards the shower a few hours later so I could feel more human, made sure the shower chair from when I was recovering from surgery was in there, and kept encouraging me to try being up for awhile.
No way. Overnight I had clearly added a secondary bacterial infection to the mess and bed was just a really good place to be.
Got that dressing changed. Got a smoothie down. Got halfway dressed, at his insistence that it would help.
And then the big reveal: someone was in the family room waiting to see me.
Oh. My. Gosh.
I so did not want to give anyone else my bugs. But I so didn’t want to disappoint my kids. I’m still torn on that, but we went and we had a great time and surrounded by love and laughter I was actually able to do it. I quietly apologized to Jesse, Flea St’s owner, when she stopped by our table, but she’d already exclaimed over my son’s having flown in just for this just for me and she held me gently in her eyes a moment and understood. She’s a good soul.
He had tried to rent a nice car to take us in for the occasion; the agency had been so sorry but they were all out of…could they upgrade him to a Jaguar at no charge?
It was a revelation: it was so quiet that even with my ears stuffed up I could hear him talking as he drove and I could even hear the two in the back seat, and that never happens and note that my ears are at their worst. I totally get why a hearing-impaired friend of mine bought a used one a few years ago.
He dropped us off at home afterwards and dashed up the freeway towards the airport. I tried to blog. I put down the computer, just so done for the day, went into the bathroom to get ready for bed and barfed.
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Aww … feel better soon!
Comment by Anne 12.12.18 @ 5:33 pmYay! for the good. I’m so sorry about the bad.
Comment by LauraN 12.12.18 @ 6:00 pmWhat a day! All the good and all the icky! Such a lovely surprise – I hope it helped you feel better today!
Comment by Pegi F 12.13.18 @ 4:14 amOh goodness! You have the best kids. So hoping you feel much better today.
Comment by DebbieR 12.13.18 @ 6:10 amWhat an awesome family you have!
May you have a blessed birthday, one sooooo good that the adrenaline scares the bacterias away!
Comment by Suzanne in Montreal 12.13.18 @ 9:33 amHappy Milestone, and so glad you got to have the joy!
Comment by twinsetellen 12.13.18 @ 9:16 pmLeave a comment
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