Funiculi, Funicula!

As you might have noticed, my blog is a little behind. I have been a bit under the weather for a few days, but all is well and I am determined to get everyone up to speed.

As you might have seen on the news, Texas has been a hit and miss for ice storms this past week. And while we were spared a significant wrath from Mother Nature, we did get a few days of slipping and sliding that caused us to have to cancel two days of treatments. But they will just be tacked onto the backend of the treatment schedule.

I arrived at Casa de Longo on Thursday for my designated day of “Driving Miss Ida” ;)
And one would have thought I was the prodigal son. I was greeted rather enthusiastically by mom, who exclaimed “I missed you.” I thought perhaps the “chemo brain” had caused her to forget that she just saw me two days ago and I called her yesterday. So when I kindly reminded her of that fact she looked at me from behind those wide-rimmed glasses, smiled and said, “I know that, I just missed you.” As my husband would say…that made me all squishy.”

So we gathered her radiation survival kit, which has a whopping two items in it, a box of juice and that very handy, blue plastic parking pass and away we went. As we are cruising down the road, we start talking about everything that has occurred in the past 48 hours since we have actually seen each other. And by the time we pulled into the parking lot at Med City we had discussed, religion, Rachel Ray’s recipes of the week, school, babies and American Idol.

After I walked mom through the double doors for her treatment, I went to work in the waiting area trying to coordinate her other appointments for the day. We still have to monitor her blood counts on a weekly basis, and rather than drive from one hospital to another, I vowed to adopt the Sam Walton theory of medical needs – one stop shopping!

It just so happens that her pulmonary doctor is located in another building at Medical City, so I called them to see if we could some how coordinate all her medical appointments into one central location. Thankfully, they were very understanding and told us that we could use the open lab at Medical City and they would fax the orders for the blood work to them right away.

When mom re-emerged from behind the doors leading to the treatment area, she was grinning like a Cheshire cat and holding a piece of paper. She had met with Dr, Macko (her radiologist) who told her everything was going well and she was progressing nicely. That’s the kind of news you like to hear!

We sat in the waiting room for a few moments discussing what the doctor had said and I told mom that I got her blood work orders moved to this hospital for convenience. I then asked her if she thought she could walk from Building D to Building A to get the blood work done. If not I would bring the car around or push her down the hall in a wheel chair.

To which mom replied, “Like hell …I can walk”

So down the hall we went, hand in hand, stopping to admire the paintings on the wall. Now, I don’t know how the animals did it when they were getting on the Arc, but walking two-by-two down a hospital corridor is not an easy thing to do, especially with on coming traffic. So as we moved to the side to make way for a delivery cart, mom looked at me and said she had forgotten to tell me that the doctor had given her a direct line to call incase she could not make her appointment due to inclement weather. I asked her if she had put the phone number in her purse. She looked at me and said “Nope.” And then she proceeded to raise her hand to her hat. She took her hat off her head and pulled a yellow post-it out of the inside brim and handed it to me. I just about fell over because I was laughing so hard. Mom asked me why I was laughing and I told her I thought she was going to do some magic trick and pull a rabbit out of her hat. And without skipping a beat she looked at me and said, “Now, wouldn’t that be something, a bald lady pulling some hair out of her hat!” (hare..hair…get it!) Cancer or not…she’s still kept her sense of humor! :)

We were able to contain our laughter just as we got to the doors of the lab. Mom got all comfy, cozy in the waiting room as I checked her in. And soon after I joined her, a lone, masked man entered the waiting room. Under normal circumstances, this would have been a welcomed site for Chemosabe. But this is a hospital, sick people gather here and I kid you not…my eyes become as big as saucers. Each and every time that door opened to receive another person for blood work, I prayed that I would hear, “Longo” or some variation to the name (Logo, Long, Bongo, Bingo..whatever…just call the name!)

Finally, mom’s name was called and we were in and out pretty quickly. Now, I know mom thinks I am a hypochondriac germaphobe, but there is a reason people come to hospitals – they are sick. If I were around healthy people, I would not be so concerned. So as we proceeded back to our area of origination, I was sure I was leaving a trail of Germ-X behind me – sort of like a modern day Gretel!

We finished our appointed rounds at the hospital and headed back home. I had to make a detour to return something for the hubby and while I was standing at the checkout, I remember my mom saying something about how she wanted a new coffee cup. It had to have a pedestal on the bottom. She says the pedestal keeps the bottom of the cup from getting too hot when she holds it. Then low and behold, out of the corner of my eye..what did I spy? You guessed it – a pedestal coffee cup and it was in mom’s colors. She is very particular about colors – nothing too bold or gaudy patterns. So I asked the lady to please ring the cup up and there was no need to wrap it as the recipient was patiently waiting in the car.

As I jumped back into the driver’s seat, I looked over at mom and said, “Here, don’t say I never give you anything.” The squeal that came out of that woman’s mouth along with a tearful, “you remembered,” reminded me of that little boy who got the golden ticket in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. The woman finds such joy in the smallest of gestures – now I know where I get it from! :o)

On the way back to the house, mom wanted to take a little detour to grab a sammy. We went to Il Grano. It’s a small Italian café run by bona fide Italians. We grabbed a small bite and recapped the day and as we walked back to the car, arm in arm, we broke into impromtu song and belted out our rendition of Funiculi, Funicula! (I think some suspected we might have had one too many Chiantis.)

For the record, there should be a warning label on that song as to its “catchiness.” It’s been in my head for three days and I am convinced that I whistle it in my sleep!

Ah well…until tomorrow – be kind and be loving, embrace the goofiness and Funiculi, Funicula! :o)