This has been an interesting week. I thought we began with a
perfect plan. Dehydration had ambushed me on my last chemo cycle, and by the
time I realized what had caused the problem, I was a week into my desiccation.
Playing catch up was a tough trick. Determined to avoid the mistakes of the
past, this time, I was scheduled up for regular fluid fill ups, before I even left
the office on day one. No problem. I am a compliant patient, and was happy
(well, maybe happy is not the word) to pack it up, and head back to the office
for days two, five and six, before returning for my next treatment on day seven,
which would of course, include more hydration.
So much for best-laid plans; even though I took additional
fluids for the next 7 days, it was still a bit of a rough go for a while. Happily
though, my wonderful friend arrived from the beach with her daughter and granddaughter
for a short visit. Their theory; if I couldn’t come to the beach, the beach
would come to me. It was a wonderful plan.
Although their visit reinforced my belief that I was
seriously due for a beach fix, it also gave me additional incentive to finish
up the next half of my treatment. My goal is to be able to make the trip as
soon as possible. There is just something so healing about the ocean. Standing
on the beach, looking out at the vastness, and down at the incomprehensible
number of grains of sand under my feet, have always helped me put life into
perspective. There, I know that even though I am as inconsequential as one of
these grains of sand, I have a God who knows me by name. In the midst of such
amazing beauty and wonder, I am reassured that life moves on, no matter what
our temporary troubles, the tide moves in and out, and the waves continue their
rhythmic washing of the shore. It is comforting.
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