A "Relaxing" Vacation…

As a family, we decided to get away for the night. While packing, my bathing suit was the first item to go in; I looked forward to sitting in the hot tub with my cleavage still intact, relaxing, and not thinking for once about the mastectomy coming up in a few short days.

My husband, Ken, went to check out the fitness room while the rest of us opted for the hot tub. Another couple was there ahead of us and probably thought, “Oh great, a mother with three rowdy teenagers.” They would have to live with it. Bigger things were at stake here. I was going to wear this bathing suit, even if it was only 40-some degrees out.

Everything was going great. For the first fifteen minutes, that is.

The kids and I were discussing Hawaii and other fun places we wanted to visit someday when my right toe began to throb. The wretched chemotherapy side effects seemed like they were going to follow me forever. I clutched my toe. “Ow.” I was so profound sometimes.

“What’s the matter, Mom?” Michael asked.

I somehow managed to be limber enough to get my toe out of the water, thinking that it would help with the pain. It was then that I noticed the wild-eyed look of the woman at the other end of the hot tub. I thought about explaining that, No, I did not have some sort of communicable flesh-eating type of foot fungus, but I was too busy proclaiming, “Ow, ow, ow,” while the kids tried to figure out what to do with me.

While I managed to get my bathing suit wet (barely), it wasn’t quite the relaxing time I had envisioned when I booked the vacation.

 

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