Sunday, November 3, 2019

What a difference a year makes.

A year ago yesterday, I was finishing my last round of chemo. Although it's a strange anniversary to celebrate, we wanted to do just that. We went to a restaurant that occupies what used to be possibly the nicest restaurant in our city. And we weren't disappointed with the new incarnation. We ordered the market seafood special, barramundi with lump crabmeat and vegetables.
And the duck in madeira sauce with figs, squash and red quinoa. Both were delicious. One little off note only: the sommelier came out with a bottle of wine and said the pinot noir we'd ordered was unfortunately out, so could he recommend this one instead? That got him a narrow-eyed look from me, and I asked if it was a different price. Why, um, yes, actually, um, more than twice the price of the bottle we'd ordered. That kind of thing is irksome to me. We asked for the wine list again and picked a bottle of 1000 Stories bourbon barrel red zin, a favorite of ours. But we liked our waiter, who was attentive and friendly, and the food and atmosphere were wonderful.
The host had asked if we were celebrating a special occasion so we told her about the anniversary. She looked surprised but said she was so happy that I was doing well. And at the end of dinner, our waiter offered us a dessert on the house. It was an easy choice for me - the "millionaire's cake" - dark chocolate and bourbon. So good.
Exactly a year ago yesterday, bald, sick, dreading the last round of chemo side effects but still smiling because of the drugs they pump you full of before the poison.
And yesterday, a year later, ready to hit the town and no ativan boost required. This smile is because I'm enjoying feeling healthy again.

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