What a Difference a Day Makes

For the past several years, I have been endeavouring to live in the moment. With the exception of prudent provision, I try to live without plans. I say try, because I am naturally a control freak – always second guessing and attempting to avoid difficulties; trying to bend the chaos into order. I have been attempting a Herculean task – but without the benefits of his muscles and a demi-god status.

Coupled with this intention was that of saying ‘Yes!’ to life. For a long time now, I have felt that life was always saying ‘No!’ to me. No you cannot be well; no you cannot visit your children; no you cannot pursue a career of your dreams. Perhaps it is cussedness, or delusion, but I have determined to say ‘Yes!’ all the same. Like a petulant toddler, I was not taking ‘No!’ for an answer.

This last weekend, these twin intentions collided. I indulged in spontaneity and I said yes. And I’m so glad I did.

A shaky start

Friday promised the discomfort of my Zumeta infusion. (A preventative one to help reduce the likelihood of bone cancer.) Let’s just say that cannulas and I are not very compatible, and this held true that afternoon.

Sweet and kind though the staff always are, it was Friday afternoon and everyone was hot and tired. The actual infusion only took fifteen minutes, but I was trapped in the chemo ward for an hour and a half. And when I was done, I wanted to weep with relief.

Discovering that my infusion was the final one was a joy. Discovering that my white blood cell count had barely recovered in two years was more than a little demoralising. I would have to continue to self isolate for the foreseeable future. I have been isolating quite happily through spring and summer, but autumn and winter are waiting like a pantomime villain in the wings.

Making the best of things

Regardless of that, a celebration was in order. We ordered a delicious take-away from our favourite Japanese restaurant, and put any fears for the future on hold.

Life is what happens…

I was exhausted and the next day, all I had scheduled was a sea swim in the morning; a very socially distanced hello with my niece who was celebrating her birthday and then the rest of the day swinging in the hammock.

At least, this is what I was anticipating. Unbeknownst to me, my husband had other plans.

On the Friday morning, I had mentioned rather casually, that we should perhaps consider having a dog again. We had gone back and forth on the issue for months, but for once we seemed to be in alignment. And my husband, who had secretly been looking for a dog, was ready to go.

So late on Saturday morning while I swung in the hammock, oblivious, he had been negotiating with a family for a new puppy. We had had so many disappointments in the process to date that I had asked him not to show or mention a dog until it was a done deal.

A pleasant surprise

Around noon, the phone rang and my husband turned to me and asked, ‘Would you like this puppy?’ Staring from the screen was the most adorable black Cocker Spaniel. My heart lurched. I love spaniels, though I would have been happy with any medium to small dog with four legs and a regular heart beat. With dogs at such a premium, I doubted we would be getting the pick of the litter, but she ticked every box.

My face showed my assent far before my words. ‘Of course! Of Course! When can we meet her?’

‘She’s ready to collect this afternoon,’ my husband told me. And by three o’clock we were off to Kent to fetch her.

We met in the garden with her mum and she confidently came up to us and gave us a doggy kiss. The deal was sealed.

Puppy struck

Puppies are clearly designed to have ridiculous heart-tug appeal – and Hermione is no exception. Why else would a sane human being accept broken nights, cleaning up little ‘accidents’ and having to completely rearrange their house to make it puppy safe?

Choosing to get a puppy was hardly a rational act. Yet, I am glad I ignored the nagging voice that kept saying: ‘What about when you are unwell? What about all those expenses? What about, what about??’

Life is risk. We can learn to minimise it; we can learn to put contingency plans in place, but ultimately we need to have faith in ourselves and our futures. The worst may well happen sooner than I’d like, but for now, I have a superb wee companion who will be loved and cherished. And love and friendship are really what life is all about. The rest is just housekeeping.