A month!  I launch this blog and then disappear for a month!  Sheesh. Sorry about that.  Shortly after publishing, I had a medical SNAFU that left me too weak and fog-headed to put words together in a way that would make sense outside my blood-deprived mind.  I did manage to scribble a bunch of notes during that time and will set to deciphering and posting them at my earliest opportunity.

In the mean time…

Celebratory Cranberries

I opened the front door and, to my happy surprise, there was a mysterious package: a hot pink Hello Kitty tote bag. This was in December, only days after my heart attack and while there were still just a handful of people who knew I’d been in the hospital.  The pinkness and the surreptitious kindness of the drive-by gifting tipped me off; my friend Erica had popped by to leave me a surprise.  As I looked through the wacky (zombie sleep mask!) and tasty (chocolate for the win!) treats, I thought to myself “wow, how sick must you be when a chemo patient brings you a get well goodie bag?”

Now before you do the natural mental cataloguing that will forever link “Erica” with “the one with cancer,” let me tell you some better and more accurate identifying markers to associate with her in your brain’s card catalog.  Because Erica is so much more than a diagnosis.

She is, in fact, a truly remarkable woman in so many ways I won’t even try to list them all.  Here are a few of my favorite bits, though:

• I guess we’ve covered that she is the sort of person who, despite her own challenges, goes out of her way to brighten people’s days.

• She is a talented writer with a quick, often self-deprecating, wit that is sharp and perceptive without being pointy and pedantic.

• Her optimistic nature, fun-loving spirit, and occasionally imprudent willingness to accept risk in pursuit of memorable hijinx have left her chock-full of hilarious tales of whimsy and misadventure.  Bullfighting, anyone?  Skydiving? Grand Theft Flamingo?  You should check out her blog; it’s a riot.
  

  Erica Rimlinger: Total Badass

• She even wrote a novel.

• She spawned is the mom of a real life Calvin (a la “Calvin and Hobbes”).  Never have I seen such precociousness or cheeky monkeyness – and my brothers both fathered some exceptionally brilliant, exceptionally cheeky monkeys.

• She is downright inspirational. She maintains a positive can-do attitude and deals with adversity with grace and humor.

• Even while on chemo and radiation therapies, she kept working, leading Zumba and Body Pump classes at local fitness centers.

• She has kicked cancer to the curb once already and I fully expect her to do it again this time.

• She’s a total badass.

One of the treats Erica left was a container of dark chocolate covered cranberries from Trader Joe’s, a parcel of yumminess that I can pretend is healthy since it has both fruit and dark chocolate, which I think is one of those superfoods, right?

What Erica had no way of knowing was that because I was taking Coumadin, cranberries were strictly verboten. They apparently increase the effects of the blood thinner exponentially.  I was only supposed to be on Coumadin for 3 months, though, so I decided that these magical cranberries would be my reward in celebration of discontinuing a medication that had a number of unpleasant side effects.  I put the treats on a high shelf and there they sat until this week.

We believe the medical SNAFU that has kept me from posting for a month was actually caused by Coumadin, so my cardiologist told me to stop taking them a bit early.  Suddenly my thoughts turned toward cranberries. I waited a week to make sure I didn’t have lingering Coumadin in my bloodstream, then cracked open the celebratory treat.

They. Are. Delicious.

Not only that, but they represent a milestone in my recovery.  I still have a long way to go, but the Coumadin portion of my treatment is over.  I am a step closer to normal, or whatever my new normal will be.

Thanks, Erica. Your unexpected treat is still making me smile after 3 months.