Plain White Paper Bags

My 6'3" dad drove a VW Beetle back and forth to his job in the city of Chicago. On the weeks he'd work day shift I'd wait for him to come home and race across the backyards to meet him on the road. When I was little enough he'd open the door and I'd crawl onto his lap. He'd put his big hands next to mine on the wheel and I'd get to drive home. When I got bigger I'd stand on the running board with his big arm around my waist and ride, fireman style, on the side of the car. A pretty big treat! Not as big, however, as looking over at the passenger seat and seeing a "plain white bag" sitting there!

The white bag always contained something wonderful: confections from the Fannie May Candy Company, cookies from a Chicago bakery, bagels or rye bread from a Jewish bread store. I learned early on that good things came in white bags. On my dad's Saturday off we'd go to the bakery in Antioch and get pastries; bismarks, struesel coffee cake and long johns for coffee break they came in a white bag. We'd drive up to the corner of #89 and Grass Lake Road on Friday nights to the hot dog stand and order REAL Chicago style hot dogs and fries for dinner. We'd wait while the guy would create our meal, wrap it in white paper and place it in a white paper bag. At Antioch Pizza, where you can still get a damned good Italian Beef Sandwich, wet please, they still serve it to you in a white paper bag.

Here in Bemidji you can still get a few things in white paper bags: sweet rolls at Raphaels, sandwiches at Beyond Juice, sometimes candy at Chocolates Plus and today ...well, today I noticed that Erin brought all the stuff to change out Mike's chemo tubing in a plain white bag. I'd noticed this on our last trip to chemo but was too busy visiting to pay close attention to the contents. Today, while we waited for the pump, I took a peek inside: tubing, needles, syringes, gloves. No candy or cookies.

I thought, hmmm...nothing wonderful. Just this chemo stuff to go with the cancer stuff to go with this invasion in our lives stuff. Yuck. I turned my back on it. There in the chair sat Mike looking, well, good and by good I mean healthy. Erin had just moments before said to Mike that he didn't look like he was taking chemo. His labs were all good and in fact were better than the week before. On paper you would never know he was getting chemo. His energy is better. His appetite is good. Other than the 'roid he wants to get a zip code and stimulus money for he isn't in any pain. There's no hair loss, no radiation burn and no mouth sores.

Erin came in and pulled his needle and tubing and gave us some time to be alone without the tubing and pump before she dumped the contents of the white bag out and began prepping Mike for reinsertion. While it's true there were no treats in the bag it's contents are helping to heal Mike. We are hugely thankful that he is tolerating this so well thus far. We were told as the tumor shrinks he would actually start to feel better so...he's feeling better. And that white bag means we are going to get that precious few moments alone without the "porta-chemo" and I guess that's the big treat in the "plain white bag." Thanks Erin!

Peace and treats all around,
Karen