- Buy food for my family to eat while I'm gone.
- Buy food for me to eat in the hospital.
- (And then the hard part) Buy food that might possibly tempt Little Warrior once that chemo starts pumping. Fresh fruit? Junior mints? Sour candy? Nuts? It changes day to day, what will appeal to her.
So I trudge up and down the aisles, a neatly typed list for the first two, and a tendency to analyze every single item for the last. Hmm, halva? Japanese pickles?
Unlike normal grocery shopping, which I find kind of fun, this is stressful. I feel like there is a giant neon arrow above my head, "Her Child Has Cancer!" Of course, no one knows, or cares. I'm just another frumpy housewife, filling her basket with stuff.
My chest is tight and I tell myself, "Relax, Silly." My mother is home with LW, I'm in no rush, there's nothing that I *must* find. It's not like being in the grocery store the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, searching for the last can of cranberry jelly.
But I'm looking for that magical item that will make it all fun. My big fantasy is that LW will grow up and when talking about these hospital trips, will say, "You know, I just remember those being a party, Mom! We played games and had tea parties and ate yummy things."
No, that's not my big fantasy. That's my small fantasy.
LW will grow up. That's my big fantasy.