Dear Friends and Family,
Today, there were bigger games afoot than football.
“Winnie, can you make me David and Nancy’s homemade soup?”
“Boy, can I.”
(Our apartment doesn’t have a dishwasher—other than Jayna and me—but it does have a microwave. And soup is part of my well-known repertoire.)
“Here it is sweetheart, chicken noodle soup with lots of fixings. It smells sumptuous.”
After one bite, Nancy confirmed the verdict: “Wow, this really does taste good.”
By the end of the midday game, Nancy’s bowl was empty. She also devoured a strawberry Carnation Instant Breakfast, made with soy milk and spiked with orange sherbet. This was the first time in our ten days on the “outside” that Nancy had eaten the equivalent of a full meal. “That cold, orange flavor not only tastes good, but it feels good on the back of my throat. Can I have some more?” It was also the first time she had asked for seconds.
The result of the nourishment? Nancy was full of energy and quite animated. After one touchdown, she screamed, “Yes!” and stood up to give Jaret a high five. She hooted and howled at two of the commercials, she whooped and shrieked at the refs, and she whooped, hollered, and grabbed my hand during the most intense moments of the game. I had not seen her so full of enthusiasm in many months.
The bowl game lasted a full five hours because of all the overtimes and commercials. Twice Nancy walked over to Jaret and Jayna, who were on the other couch, and gave each of them a hug. (She was unhooked from her IV since we had planned her medicines around this particular game.) During the postgame interviews, Nancy sneaked away from the couch and after a while, I could hear the sound of running water.
When a commercial came on, I walked into the kitchen. “Nancy, what are you doing?”
There were clean dishes in the sink and a look on Nancy’s face like I had caught her with a hand in the cookie jar. “I live here too, Winnie. I get to help when I feel like it, don’t I.”
You have helped, my love. More than you know.
Immediately after finishing the dishes, it was time for Nancy’s dressing change, Nancy’s six nighttime pills, and the twelve-hour IV containing the medicine fighting Nancy’s CMV infection. But for one evening, it was like old times.
“Winnie, tomorrow night can we play that board game we got for Christmas? All four of us?” (That’s not a “normal” activity for our family. Rather, it’s something new.)
“Sounds like fun to me,” I answered, rushing to the bathroom to hide my moist eyes.
Summary: It has been a great week because it was delightfully boring and uneventful. For the first time in months, we are daring to think about tomorrow. Here’s to “new” days, even ones that are not quite normal.
With love, hope and promise,
Winnie