Nurse maid

You know, life would be SO much easier if everyone had a nurse and a maid. Lucky me. I've had the nurse since this cancer "misadventure" (to borrow a phrase from Lisa B.) started some six months ago. And I've had the maid and the nurse since I got out of the hospital last week.

Actually, they're one and the same person -- my sister, Connie. She's an R.N. and she lives up the street from me. We're only a year apart in age, and, even though she's the younger one, she has embraced her "mother hen" instinct and has made me her mission.

When I was going through five weeks of radiation and chemo last fall, she called me EVERY DAY to find out how I was, what I needed, etc. When I complained that the chemo made the bottoms of my feet tender and sore, she brought me gel inserts for my shoes. When I mentioned that cheap banana-flavored popsicles were one of the few things I could eat with chemo-induced mouth sores, she showed up at my door with a box of them.

She accompanied me more than anyone else to doctor appointments and radiation treatments, laughed with me, cried with me, and was the one who asked around at the hospital and found me a top-notch surgeon.

Now that I'm home after surgery, her "inner maid" has been stopping by to help with laundry, dishes, vacuuming, and a host of other duties, including taking laps with me around the backyard. She's also given me a few of the Lovenox shots and helped with numerous other things.

So, thanks, Connie! You have risen above sisterhood -- all the way to sainthood! And I will never forget it. Love you lots!

Until next time ...
P