surviving cancer 101: lesson 2

80

People enjoy their food,
take pleasure in being with their families,
spend weekends working in their gardens,
delight in the doings of the neighborhood.
And even though the next country is so close
that people can hear its roosters crowing and its dogs barking,
they are content to die of old age
without ever having gone to see it.

excerpted from the Tao de Ching

2. the importance of fried chicken.

On days that I am recovering from chemo, my New Jersey husband cooks me fried chicken, fried chicken that is better than my mom's, who is a formidable southern cook.

I usually can't eat much of it that night, one piece and a few potatoes, some sliced tomatoes during summer will fill me up, but as my appetite returns, we will fight over the leftovers until they are gone. That chicken is delicious, partly because it IS delicious, but moreso because I'm touched that he wants to take the time to make it for me. Its such a sweet gesture - him in the kitchen nursing that fried chicken along the way he's had to nurse me along, the way he's there with me to read the MRI reports and CT scans because I can't. To research the details on the trials and drugs we're considering because it's difficult for me to assess objective clinical information. I'd rather not know the details, the hows and the whats. But I want him to know the hows and the whats, to tell me he thinks this is the one we should try, this looks good. Then I CAN empty my mind of expectations and wait to see what happens.

I think that fried chicken makes me think of all the things he's done for me during this time, stuff that would never have crossed our minds 5 years ago, me very independent, not needing much at all. Its a reminder of just how important home is, and the little things you take joy in. Like my wonder dog. And good books. And crossword puzzles. And fried chicken. And sliced tomatoes and the garden they came from.