Feeling Guilty And A Job Well Done

‘I’m having kind of a hard time celebrating other people’.  I had to admit I too felt a tinge.  ‘Well, we have nothing really to celebrate, so I say let’s celebrate somebody else’s good fortune whenever we can.  Personally I think chocolate cake should come with all good news’ came my response.  We lapsed into silence again.  I could tell her mind was racing.  As she watches my struggle become more difficult she faces so many unknowns.  Layered on top of that is the unjust burden of perceived sin.  Personally I think sin overstates a natural reaction.  There is burden enough for all without flailing oneself with loathing because of a natural human reaction.  I want to tell her forget the preacher just this once and allow yourself a moment’s weakness if you may.  ‘It’s just that it’s so unfair’.  No argument there.  I watched the land go by in an endless series of flashed images.  I digest input and ideas a little differently with the pain meds effects. Finally I let the silence endure.  Some things best left not said or responded to. 

 My second chemo treatment was yesterday and came off without a hitch.  We had to wait a couple of hours for my prescriptions.  Narcotic prescriptions cannot be fax documents or called in to the pharmacy.  I officially became a morphine user, one pill every 12 hours. While we waited I grabbed a magazine and headed for the comfort station.  Having not moved in 2 days or so I thought I would just sit and relax and maybe it would happen for me.  I had repeated cramps for the past 12 hours or so that came and passed without gas or any other accompanying action.  Just about the time I reached page 3 of the Saturday Evening Post an upward growl of the stomach caused me to lurch a bit and suddenly I dropped a full release.  The stench filled my stall immediately.  I reached around to pull the lever for a courtesy flush.  There was no lever.  This was a modern wave for flush, water and towel facility.  Personally I am not a fan of hands free.  I frequently cannot find the magic spot that turns on the water, usually wave madly all over the place and only occasionally get a paper towel dispensed.  With a sharp cramp more was delivered.  The smell of death now filled my end of the room.  I heard a whimper come from the next stall.  The door opened and an involuntary groan indicated the problem had reached the far end of the room.  I was confident there was a flush button and struggled madly to find it behind my back.  I heard a thud in the next stall, he may have passed out.  ‘Whew’ came the faint voice at the urinal.  Unable to get up yet I worked to rotate on my seat to where I could eye the water supply.  My bowel was now empty.  Nothing left to deliver.  Yet the stench came on as if I had just started.  Fearing something growing beneath me I moved faster.  A faint whimper came from the next stall.  At last turned I found the button and hit it.  In a moment that which was had passed from view and nasal detection.  Clean up was a snap and as I washed my hands I heard rustling from my neighbor’s stall, indicating he had survived.  I left with a smile, feeling fortunate I did it at the medical center and not at home.