Drip of a Different Flavor

“Whoa! How’d you do that Nia?” Cal asked.

“Do what?”

“Make the coffee cup look like it’s magical? Invisible? Part of the countertop?”

“Beats me,” Nia shrugged. “Some enchantments we accept from the camera without question.”

“Our waitress yesterday was a little quirky.” Tal wiggled her eyebrows.

“Cut her some slack,” Cal sighed. “She told us she had to make a final decision about her beloved Yorkie-poo on Monday. If Typist was wearing her waitress’ apron, she might have been acting a little quirky, too. Remember our collective heartache when Mara left us?”

“Typist and her friend Chinchi executed a flawless pivot — going out for coffee and breakfast after the chemo drip was called off,” Cal added. “Wasn’t the potato, veggie, ham, and egg-topped skillet divine?”

“Only exceeded in flavor by delicious conversation,” said Nia. “And even though I hate failing at anything… I guess our best defense against negative thought patterns is to find the things for which we are grateful.”

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A word from Typist:

Chinchi had an opportunity to share greetings and hugs with the oncology angels who cared for her husband Greg. That brought me so much joy! We were seated in our pod, draped in heated blankets, sipping from Styrofoam cups of ice water when one of the nurses brought over the news.

My bone marrow is taking a hit and I am nuetropenic… which means that a prized infection fighting component of my white blood cells (neutrophils) has dipped below an acceptable level to receive more chemo drugs — nobody wants me to end up in the hospital with an infection my body needs additional medical intervention to fight.

We’ll wait a week to allow my body to recover, and if needed, I will receive neutrophil boosting shots going forward. This is a common side effect of treatment.

Isn’t it amazing the things humans have learned to care for one another?

I am wonder-filled!