I took this week off from my regular job. No exotic vacation on tap or even a trip to the beach. Just time off. I had felt the need for a break coming on for a while now. I was in need of time to refocus and recalibrate. Take some time for me. I dropped my youngest son off at school my first free morning, and headed to one of my favorite places for morning coffee. Instead of rushing through the drive thru, I parked my car, ordered my coffee and a croissant, and found a nice cozy booth. I took a few sips of my coffee. I then pulled my notebook out of my purse. What better way to spend a peaceful morning? Sipping coffee and writing. What would I write about? For the most part, I am never at a loss for something to write about. There is so much going on in the world, but my preference is to write about daily life. The Good Stuff. What came to mind on that morning was a trip I took this time of year about two years ago. I was planning a trip that I probably never would have taken if circumstances had been different. I was getting ready for a trip to Baltimore, Maryland.
Baltimore, Maryland? The little bit I knew about Baltimore was not good. I had watched the news reports about the high crime rate, derelict and abandoned buildings, and homelessness that plagued this city. None of that mattered to me. My sister had completed months of chemotherapy in April 2019. We had been so hopeful. I thought the battle with her colon cancer was over. Fast forward a couple of months to June. She had a PET scan, and our hopes were crushed. Her colon cancer had morphed into something I had never heard of. Peritoneal Carcinomatosis. That’s a mouthful, and it was even worse to wrap my head around. Her colon cancer had invaded the walls of her abdomen. My sister’s oncologist recommended that she consult with a specialist in Baltimore, MD. His specialty was a procedure called Hyperthermic (or heated) Intraoperative Peritoneal Chemotherapy. HIPEC for short. My sister and her husband went for a consultation in early August. Her surgery and treatment were scheduled for September. There was never any doubt in my mind that I would be there for my sister. The planning began.
At that time, I was 48 years old, and had never flown anywhere my entire life. I’m sure most people are thinking…what rock has she been living under? I never really had the opportunity to fly until my Baltimore trip or the desire. I, also, was somewhat afraid to fly. I can sometimes get caught up in analyzing all the things that could go wrong. So there I was. Scared to fly and scared to go to the big bad city. Scared even worse of losing my sister. Love can conquer any fear. This trip would be different. I would do what needed to be done for my sister. My oldest son offered to go with me. I knew that I would fly to Baltimore with my sister and her husband, but depending on how things went, I might have to fly home by myself. My oldest son had never flown anywhere either so this would be a new experience and adventure for both of us.
The day of departure arrived. We would be flying to Baltimore in a private plane thanks to a businessman that was a friend of my sister’s pastor. He had been successful in his business endeavors, and paid it forward by flying people who were in need of treatment for their illnesses. I am forever grateful. I could not have asked for a better first flight. We lifted into the morning sky. The sun was just beginning to peek at us. To see the day come alive in the sky is a truly phenomenal experience. Off we went. Full of hopes and dreams. There are many times in life that you are given no other option, except to face your fears head on. A funny side note. I called my doctor’s office a couple of days before leaving on my trip. I explained the circumstances of my trip to the nurse. I had never flown before. My sister was going for what would hopefully be a lifesaving procedure. I was very nervous about this trip. Would it be possible for the doctor to prescribe something to calm my nerves should the need arise? Trust me. I did not make this request lightly. I had grown up with a family member that had been overprescribed anxiety medicine, and I was not going to fall into that hole. The nurse asked the name of my pharmacy, and advised that she would speak to the doctor. The day before leaving, I swung by my pharmacy to pick up the prescription that had been called in. The cashier told me the amount due, and it was a very small amount. Less than a dollar. I said something about the cost. She responded, “Well, it’s only one pill.” One pill?! I thought. Ok, I might need one on the way back home. I guess my doctor thought I was stronger than I felt. Right then and there I made up my mind that I would never take that pill. I would carry that bottle with one little pill in my purse as a reminder. My strength would not come from a pill.
We made it to Baltimore. I rode in an Uber for the first time. We were on our way to the AirBnb that I had reserved for my son and I. It was clean and cheap. Our on site hostess was wonderful. Available, if needed, but not intrusive. We stayed on a street with a long line of row houses on each side. I had only seen houses like this on television. I had nothing to compare it to being from the South with our wide open spaces. We met our host, dropped our luggage off, and were off to get my sister and her husband settled into their hotel room near the hospital. One thing I can say about Baltimore is that there are plenty of excellent places to eat. My first meal was some type of nachos with chorizo. I had heard of chorizo on Food Network, but had never eaten any. It was delicious. My AirBnb hostess told me there was a wonderful Farmer’s Market within walking distance of her home. It’s called the 32nd Street Farmers Market. I woke up early one morning with plans to check it out before heading to the hospital to sit with my sister. Let me just say. The farmer’s market where I am from can’t hold a candle on the one I visited in Baltimore. The vegetables, fruit, baked goods, music, crafts, and the list goes on. On the last night that my son and I were in Baltimore, my brother in law took us out to eat at a nice seafood restaurant. By that time, my sister was still recovering from her surgery in the hospital, and she and my brother in law would be staying a few more days. I was told by friends before I left on my trip that I could not go to Baltimore without trying the crab cakes. First off, the only seafood I eat as a rule is shrimp. At that point, I was so far out of my comfort zone. I decided. Why not? You only live once, and I was going to order crab cakes. They were delicious. Not something I would ever order on purpose, but I can say I did try them.
I often look back on experiences I have had in my life. Many times, they were surreal at the time, and I could not attain clarity or understand the full magnitude until some time had passed. The day of my sister’s surgery we were all filled with hope that this procedure which had been so highly recommended would be the silver bullet needed to deal with my sister’s cancer. We were told the surgery could take several hours, and to expect a long day. My brother in law, my son, and I hunkered down for the duration. I had my phone, my kindle, notepad, etc. I remember a nurse coming out stating that the doctor was ready to speak to us. I instantly knew something was wrong. She had not been in surgery nowhere near the amount of time we had been told. We were escorted into a small conference room where the doctor came in to speak to us. He was not a native English speaker, but was well spoken. He took a red marker to illustrate on the smart board what he had found in my sister’s abdomen, and what he had done to give her some relief and quality of life. It all looked like scribbles to me. I sat there in a stupor. Trying to take it all in. My mind felt as squiggly, jumbled, and confused as the doctor’s illustration. I must have looked like I was going to snap because the next thing I knew a female African priest was in the room talking to us. Sitting next to me. I asked her where she was from. I can’t remember if it was the eastern or western coast of Africa. I did learn while in Baltimore that west Africans do not want to be confused for east Africans and vice versa. A lot of the Uber cars I had ridden in were driven by Africans. Anyway, I sat there listening to this African priestess (I guess that is the proper title?), and how I ended up talking to her about my farm and the goats my husband and I have I will never know. I look back now and have to laugh. Maybe I was momentarily insane or just trying to deal with the blow we had been dealt as a family.
I had so many new experiences in Baltimore. I met new people. I tried new foods. I saw my son in a new light. He is a grown man now. He was there for me to lean on. I am proud of the person he has become. There are so many layers to my story. It did not have the ending that I had hoped for. The doctor was unable to perform the procedure on my sister. The cancer had taken a firm foothold in her abdominal cavity. I will never forget the look of disappointment on her face when she woke from surgery, and we had to tell her the doctor had not been successful. However, that was not the end of her story. She would go on to live another year by way of pure tenacity and determination. I left Baltimore feeling defeated. Probably in shock. The trip had not gone like we had planned, but it had been life altering for me. That is how life is. You can make all the plans in the world, but most likely they are made in vain. I grew as a person, and still continue to grow. I faced fears and the realization that we are all mortal. I will continue to get up everyday, lace my boots up, and take one step at a time. I know there are many bad days behind me. I also know that there will be more ahead, but there will be good ones. My trip to Baltimore will go down as a chapter in my book that resulted in personal growth and awareness, and is also part of the cancer journey I walked with my sister. Baltimore…I will never forget you. I am forever grateful.
Three takeaways from my trip to Baltimore….
*I am stronger than I ever thought.
*Travel and experience new places, try different foods, and meet new people. We
are more alike than we are different.
*Learn to go with the flow. Life most often does not go as we hope or plan.
Otherwise, you will get bogged down by your expectations.
*I highly doubt I will ever be a fan of big city life. Been there. Done that. Might visit again, but not to live.
The Good Stuff with Stella Elaine 