Beth and I were in Portland by 8:30AM for my Chemo treatment. It was mercifully short; just a little over an hour of drip, drip, drip. I had a little problem with heartburn, but nothing unbearable.
Radiation was even quicker and less eventful.
And then came lunch with my sister, Beth and my honorary Portland sister, Susan.
I took Beth back to Hood River, using the scenic highway. I did fine until about 3PM, then I turned the driving over to Beth. She got us home safely, just in time for me to crash.
There is something very comforting, being cared for by the
people who cared for Richard. And something, well I don’t know exactly how to
describe it. Knowing I am sitting in a chair that Richard sat in or lying on a
table that Richard once laid on. I have the same nurses and techs that Richard
had. Yes, it is comforting, but it forces me to remember things I don’t want to
remember. I want to remember walking on the beach in Cape May, taking the Métro
in Paris, or visiting the shrine at Lourdes, not Kathryn sticking a needle in Richard’s arm so the chemo drugs can
be given, not the times in radiation.
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