Spring Break, Week 1

The bike ride on your birthday was more than perfect. I was reminded of how superior our spring and summer route to Manhattan and Hermosa Beaches is to the winter route that barely goes beyond Marina del Rey. The comparison, in fact, is pitiful. Upon reaching Manhattan Beach, we enter a different world, a world of beach communities where sun, sand, piers, surfboards, and wide-windowed houses dominate the landscape. There the focus is on being one with the beach. It's Spring Break, the place is teeming with people intent on spending their time enjoying the ocean. I so marveled at the forgotten beauty of this ride that I felt compelled to call Beth and apologize for taking her on such a poor imitation of it when she was here. She must come back down so we can do the real thing. I can't let her miss out on this beachride experience. It will remind her of our days on Balboa Island. Laura rode with us and complained of her ass being sore. She was visibly uncomfortable, especially on the ride home. We stopped in Manhattan Beach and ate at Wahoo's. It's ambiance leaves much to be desired. The food is okay but was way too heavy on the cilantro. They need to slap a little sour cream on that stuff. Low fat is good but taste is imperative. Later in the day, I noticed that the back of Laura's hands had gotten sunburned. That poor child! She got my mother's complexion but not her distaste for the sun. The backs of her calves were also burnt. She was glad to get back on the road to the desert that evening. She did, however, stay for dinner before she left.

Tuesday was chemo day. We went to the oncology center and I learned how they hook you up. Since you had to stay for two hours for one type of chemo before you got your pack of 5FU to take home, I was able to go across the street to see Dad at the health care center. Gotta love that name 5FU. That's what I'd like to say to cancer. FU.

The oncological center is a feast for the eyes. Someone sure got it right. If you have to have cancer and chemo, then let's make a place that's aesthetically pleasing. And it made my eyes happy! If eyes could sing, mine would have sung 'Vissi d'Arte' from Tosca. The walls are filled with the most beautiful paintings, sculptures and collages. Large leather recliners where when you sit to get your infusions you face floor-to-ceiling plate-glass windows that look west to the ocean. They have pillows and blankets, and the atmosphere is intensely serene. You slept through much of your treatment, and Jose came in for his treatment near the end of yours so you two were able to talk.

We went home with you hooked up to your fanny pack of 5FU and who knows what else. You were to wear it for 46 hours and disconnect it when it starts beeping on Thursday morning. What I noticed was how soon the fatigue set in. You began to nap that afternoon and fell asleep in front of the TV somewhat early. Afraid that a dog or a wife might jostle your pack and sending toxic chemicals spewing all over our bed, you went alone to sleep in the middle bedroom. Again you felt slightly headachy and mildly nauseous. You chose not to do much exercise during those days but managed to function, running errands and taking care of small tasks around the house and at Dad's condo.