5:30 am. The alarm rings, seeming way too early. I get up, wash my face. My evangelical friends talk about putting on the armor of God each day. It's a warrior imagery I've never cared for, but today, the idea of fortification sounds good. I settle for nice jeans and a blouse.
5:50 am. I do a quick check of email to find loving comments here, wall posts and facebook comments of love,thoughts, and prayers. An email from Father Mac that he'll be in prayer for LW this morning. I lean forward to turn off my computer and hear metal clank. I look down to discover my body firmly dressed in a suit of silver armor.
6:00. On the road. "I woke up, it was a Chelsea morning..." from the speakers. The grey sky denies this.
6:35. It is not raining, but swirling around downtown, up ahead, are dark clouds, so low I can't see the tops of the skyscrapers. I steer our car into them.
6:45 The rain is coming down so hard, I can barely see in front of me. But even thicker are the memories. That's where we used to stop so I could put emla on LW's port. There's the overpass I watched them build.
We stop at the light in front of Methodist hospital and I am between worlds. Methodist is where LW got radiation. Methodist is where I hope to do my chaplaincy next summer.
7:00. We are here. We park in the same space we've parked countless times, where I would unpack a car laden with objects to convert a hospital room into a home for 6 days.
7:15. In full mama bear mode, I begin warning every nurse we see that we need their best needle person to put in LW's iv, the FIRST time. My phone chimes intermittently as friends facebook their love and concern. They make us smile.
8:00 LW is drinking contrast and interestedly watching Alice fight the Jabberwock on the hospital movie channel. And we wait.
My thoughts are on you two all day. Hang on, rest and relief will be yours again. ily.
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