I know a lot of families share highs and lows at mealtime or bedtime. Some refer to that time as peaks and valleys. Roses and thorns. Other creative language that escapes me at the moment. No matter what you call it, life keeps teaching me how intertwined the highs and the lows are, along with whatever you consider middle ground to be. Boring, just right, time to breathe, or ordinary . . . after lows, ordinary can feel like quite the high.
I started this post over a month ago, but it got left in the dust as pseudo-normal days returned. That day in late July, I drove for the first time since June 2. A high. Time in Mada taught me also to be grateful to have a vehicle to drive. Peaks are plentiful. My hair also began falling out. I was told to expect that in the radiation area after cyber knife treatments. My hair, which normally does nothing I want it to do, is expert at meeting oncologists’ predictions post-treatment. Skills.
Today I went in for a follow-up MRI, but 3 staff and 4 or 5 pokes later we all
agreed my veins were not going to allow an IV today. They are feisty that way. Part of the problem was dehydration. Time to reschedule.
Some of us wear our hearts, or at least a few words of inspiration, on our wrists. I should have been wearing this StoryPeople wrap this week. But while today’s delay initially felt like a low for needle-phobic me, it quickly had me thinking about water. . . How life-giving and vital it is. How can I get dehydrated when clean water is so accessible for me? At the same time I’m planning my cool drinks for the day, people are running from storms of water or staring helplessly at waterlogged homes. What happens to treatments and medical care in the throes of Harvey and Irma? What does that do to someone’s plan? Their health? Their hope? What about scarce water supplies, in the midst of a water-based storm? Highs and lows smashed together into something too overwhelming to reflect on.
So I remember, it’s a beautiful fall Friday in Minnesota. Time to trust that love will nudge a lot of us to do what we can for the folks in the south. And time for another big glass of water.
writing along the way 