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“Trust me, this is going to come out well in the end. It looks bad now but tomorrow is a new day and the story has yet to be written. Press on.” ~ Garrison Keillor 

Here we are on the cusp of another new year; as ever, I’m sitting here at the keyboard wondering what happened to the last one. It went so fast—a whirlwind–still feels like I should be in May. That’s what happens– time DOES fly faster the older you get (or more likely the slower you get!).

Since my last column, I’ve heard from a lot of you ‘out there’. Thank you! It’s heartening to know that someone promises to take that free advice or share it with someone they love; and that others have been on the same journey, or just say “I care.” It all matters. Maybe someone else won’t get bad news, or will be up-to-date on screenings/rechecks. Also, since that last round, I’ve had breast cancer surgery scheduled pretty much fast as the surgeon could get me in. Just listening to her as she laid out the full plan for the road ahead, I felt better knowing something. Plus, I could tell she is on the A+ smart list—not only did she present a plan of action, she had sheets of photos, diagrams and printed materials in hand. That way, it made it easier for my addled mind to keep up–my old calculus teacher at Wingate would have approved of her method. 

Of course, Murphy’s Law just HAD to kick in! When does it not, Dear Reader? You just have to roll with it: tomorrow IS a new day. Surgery booked, treatment plans in the works, care team lined up…what next? Christmas. I missed it. After sneezing and feeling a bit peaked one afternoon, a scented candle someone had just given me got the blame. Some scents can set off watering eyes, ach-CHOO’s, and headaches the minute you pass them in a store, or remove a lid off the top. By evening, I was getting suspicious it might be something more…so out came covid test boxes. The next day, I was canceling Christmas dinner just in case it was a cold, flu, or covid. And you KNOW I hate to miss out gathering with special souls around a lovely table filled with a delicious repast! It just felt so important this year, to be there, to share a table of love once again. 

The next morning, I knew I’d been right not to share. The dreaded “+” sign showed nice and dark after getting off the fence about uncertain results earlier. Oh yes, no mistaking ‘you got it!’ 

 

Kleenex boxes and ginger tea makings came out in full force–Christmas is no time to get sick, folks. It’s hard to get medical help ASAP, but I knew I was up-to-date on shots. And food: makings for pho soup from a friend dropped off for a get-well ‘meal kit’ delivery at the door the day before, then a whole Christmas feast left off next morning. The fridge groaned, but I just coughed, sneezed, sniffled with a warm heart filled from love in those  care packages. 

 

The evil virus feels bad, but could be worse. I let my care team know, and it helped when they handled all the rescheduling/details—the date pushed back a week; and tomorrow’s a new day. The story is yet to be written. I wish each and every one of you a HAPPY New Year ahead—and am grateful for you, Dear Reader. We’ve weathered a lot together over the years. Press on! 

 

Feel free to contact me at bbardos@gmail.com, (828) 817-6765, P.O. Box 331, Saluda, NC 28773, Facebook, or visit bonniebardos.com