The perfect day consisted of brunch followed by a couple hours at our favorite coffee joint.
We haven’t had Sunday brunch since before my surgery in September a year ago that robbed me of my ability to swallow not only food, but pretty much anything. I thought I’d found a workaround to this conundrum last Christmas when I went with him, his dad and his aunt for a steak dinner. I ordered mine to go, and while the logistics of it worked out fine, I discovered the emotional toll of just sitting there trying to muster a smile while everyone else was eating was more than I ever wanted to try again.
But, being the trooper that I am, I tried it again again at his dad’s birthday last summer. A more extended group of family was in attendance for that, and it was as if I was completely invisible. No thanks, I’d had enough and gave up any aspirations of public dining ever again.
Well lately, I think both and I have been missing our Sunday brunches, so this morning I suggested we go today. My attitude toward, well, everything has improved significantly of late, and I thought I could now handle ordering my food to go and sitting with Ben while he finished his breakfast.
Turns out I could. I’ve been allowing my current situation to ruin so many aspects of my life, something finally clicked over the fast few days and I told myself, “Enough! Let go of this bullshit and get on with your goddamned life!”
When we were finished at First Watch, we headed over to Window for our usual weekend coffee date.
I still can’t drink coffee the way I used to, but I can have a few sips and nurse it until I can get it home and squirt it through the g-tube like a normal person.
All in all, it was a good day.
But make no mistake: cancer—or more specifically, cancer treatment still sucks—and damn poorly at that!
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