6:45 AM, 15 minutes later than normal and I was paying the piper with the length of the checkout line that stretched out in front of me. But I had to have my morning infusion of caffeine and the location of the 7-Eleven off Wootton Parkway was convenient.

“Infusion of caffeine”, I chuckled to myself realizing the unintended pun.

Looking at all the men in front me who were heading off to work I grasp the incongruity of my day and theirs.  Hard working blue collar workers, most of them landscapers with probably nothing more on their minds than how hot it’s going to get and whether the Gatorade in their hand will be enough to quench their thirst today. I want to tell all these guys around me that a year ago that’s all I’d be thinking about too and that that is all I wish I thought about 566g-at-walgreens-infusion-centeron mornings like this. Wonder about how hot it’s going to get and gripe about the morning traffic.

But that’s not my day, not today.

And with that thought the surreality of my day washed over me. While they headed off to work I was heading off to the hospital. While they would be riding around in trucks or on mowers I’d be sitting in an infusion chair. While their life giving liquid would be coming out of a Gatorade bottle mine would be coming out of plastic bag.

One day, every other week Mr. Kenney and it really only takes an hour. One day,  every other week and you get to live.

2016-10-31T07:39:00-04:00 June 19th, 2014|Categories: Living While Dying|1 Comment

One Comment

  1. Bobbie June 19, 2014 at 11:38 pm

    I love your posts

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