I’ve learned not to miss my cancer support group meetings. I was gone one week and found they’d nicknamed me “Sunshine” in my absence. Heartfelt, I’m sure. But now I’ve also learned not to go to church without Liz. She said she didn’t feel up to it last Sunday, so I went by myself. When I got home, she had a big smile. And a puppy picked out.
We already have a dog–itself an unaccountable fact. We got Gibbie because I had a vision of sitting on the couch feeling chemo’d, but next to me lay a small furry companion. Liz embraced the idea, and so Sir Gibbie joined our family a year and a half ago. He fills his role well.
Gibbie sits with me in my suffering. He walks with me in the darkness. What his doggy understanding of my condition is, who knows? I sit on the couch exhausted. He jumps up. Flop. I feel the pressure of his small torso against my thigh. He breathes quickly for awhile, heaves a sigh, and falls asleep.
We already have a dog. Why do we need another one? I had a vision, Liz said. When you’re gone, Gibbie and I will be sad and lonely without you. Can’t argue with a vision, though with this rationale, we could end up with 14 dogs, like one of my cancer support group friends has–14 chihuahuas. Liz assures me this will not happen.
As a result of Liz’s vision, we brought home Lord Digory yesterday. He is settling in well. Gibbie sets the boundaries, so they are getting on as two brothers should.
Also this week, I sent out my book manuscript to my volunteer readers–people who don’t know me–to tell me what’s good and what’s not. By the end of the month I want my changes in place so I can send the manuscript off to our daughter for a copyedit. Meanwhile, I have a couple of weeks when I can step away from the manuscript, relaxing while manuscript praise washes over me. Or I could just take a shower.
Yesterday I got a call from the clinical trials coordinator at the Sarah Cannon Research Institute in Nashville. They have two trials they want to talk to me about on March 28th. My fortune cookie says, “Major pharmaceutical change in your future.” Please pass the egg rolls.
Growing into my new “Sunshine” nickname will take some doing, but it’s easier on perfect spring days with dogs prancing in yard.