When I was a kid, this time of year, I always desperately wanted a new lunch box. I’m not talking about the glittery vinyl lunchboxes that all the cool kids carry now, I’m talking about the old school metal lunchboxes WITH the matching thermos!
I wanted the Six Million Dollar Man lunchbox.
I needed the Starsky and Hutch lunchbox.
I had confusing feelings about the Charlie’s Angels lunchbox.
When I went back to school I REALLY wanted to be carrying my PB&J sandwich in a chunky new lunchbox with a shiny thermos full of tropical punch Kool-Aid.
I still get an urge this time of year to buy a new lunchbox but Wal-Mart only has the vinyl Paw Patrol ones and they DON’T have a matching thermos!!
It’s sad!
Well this has been treatment week for me so that means I have been spending time with a special sort of lunchbox.
It’s not metal. It is cloth, and it looks like a ‘80s European man purse.
It’s my infusion pump.
It has been my constant companion this week.
I’ve worn it nonstop the last five days, I’ve taken it off only long enough to get it refilled.
It’s a lunchbox that is literally attached to me. I couldn’t leave it on the school bus if I wanted to!
I’ve really wanted to put Star Wars stickers all over it, but I’m thinking that might be some kind of healthcare violation.
It does have a thermos…kinda.
There’s no Kool-Aid though, It’s full of cancer killing fluids that are being pumped into me.
It has loudly beeped at us a few times this week, that’s been scary. We have panicked a little when the alarm goes off, wondering if it’s about to self destruct or spew chemicals all over. It turns out that the beeping usually means “Hey man! you’re sitting on your cord again!”
It can seriously seem like a time bomb when we know that it’s almost out of juice. The warning whistle sounds off and we know that any second the loud alarm could go off. It becomes a race against time to get to the office for the refill.
Racing for anything has been tricky. It’s been a wobbly week. I’ve stumbled around like I’m heavily drugged, probably because I AM heavily drugged. So, you should be relieved to know that I’ve avoided operating tractors and other heavy machinery.
It’s been a wonky week, my brain has been fuzzy. At times it has felt like a Great Dane was sitting on my head, or like someone hit me in the face with an old metal lunchbox.
It’s been a wonderful week, I’m reminded how amazing my wife is as I’m dependent on her for some really basic things. She is truly my hero.
I feel the prayers of family and friends wrap me up like a blanket on a cold school night.
It’s tough navigating life with a lunchbox attached to my chest. Sleep is tricky. It keeps me from some of my routine daily activities such as racquetball and fencing.
I still get an urge this time of year to buy a new lunchbox…
But next year I’m holding out for the Six Million Dollar Man one (with the matching thermos).
carbonated joy 