Christmas Eve

It’s late in the evening, and I am medicated and settled in for the night. I have an infusion of penicillin in my right arm, a pain pill and an iron tablet bouncing down my internal passageway, and some automatic foot-squeezers massaging my feet to prevent blood clots and other things–like sleep, maybe. My right leg is about twice the size of my left leg, but the medical people look at it at say, “Ah…MUCH BETTER!!!” I myself think it looks like overcooked turkey skin, but perhaps that’s just a seasonal observation.

It was a nice day today, as days go. Rebecca brought me some beautiful blackberries–huge and juicy and fat–and Diane brought chocolates from Phil Murray’s new chocolate store, delicious and guaranteed to make me huge and juicy and fat. Others came by too, bearing gifts and get-well wishes, and some called or emailed. Sarah and Jonathan are both here, and will bring some Christmas stollen in the morning, and we’ll open a few presents then. The hospital offers Christmas dinner to patients and their families, and we’ll enjoy that part too later in the day. Then, on Wednesday, we’ll all have training in how to change this antibiotic and maintain the pump appliance I will be wearing for the next month. Then it will be home to Fouch Road and a gourmet meal cooked by Jon, who’s looking forward to the ‘standing rib challenge’.

I’m not unhappy about being here for Christmas Day–as Sherry says, “What’s the worry?” I am alive, getting more healthy, and am watched after by a group of people who genuinely care that I am comfortable, fed, and well cared-for. I am truly appreciative of those who chose professions of care–my friends at Orchard Creek, and now my many friends here at Munson Medical Center. I think I really didn’t know this world existed, though I’ve certainly been a part of it on several occasions. But perhaps it’s the fact that I am older and less personally driven to make my own indelible mark in the world…I can relax a little and appreciate the contribution that countless others are making to my own well-being. I can’t begin to honor or thank them enough; on this Christmas Eve I can only think of the true meaning of the word ‘gift.’


One thought on “Christmas Eve

  1. Hope you enjoyed your ham and penicillin dinner. Have they figured out how to do candied yams interveniously yet? Great to see you today, looking perky and full of Gertie Kranker spunk.

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