A Chicken Escapes and the Plague Finds a New Host

Andrine convinces the chicken to come home

We had a chicken escape before we went to bed last night. She was one of the new ones Andrine got last week. Tasche, on her way to school, spotted it on Fremont, about to get run over in the traffic. Tasche had to get on the bus to avoid being late to school so she was unable to catch the chicken and bring her home. She called David, who called me, who woke up Andrine. Andrine sprang to her feet, threw on her coat and was out the door immediately. I pulled on some pants and was right behind her. We corned the chicken in the neighbor’s yard. Once back at the coop, Andrine cut some feathers off one of the chicken’s wings because she was already plotting another escape. She’s currently the low chicken on the totem pole, the last in the pecking order. She’s a scrapper, so she has a tendency to get beat up by the other older chickens. It turns out that if you’re a chicken, the best way to survive is to turn the other cheek. It’s probably the wisest move if you’re a human as well.

I came down to breakfast and everyone could tell that I was much better since I was dressed and wearing lipstick. Lipstick is superfluous when one is plague-ridden. Also it was a dead giveaway that I was doing better when I was spotted chasing chickens on Fremont in the early light of day. I’m back among the living again.

My housemate Chira is down for the count with the same Miserable Plague. We played the Pollyanna Glad Game about this disease. He’s much better at it than I was during the time that I was in the clutches of it. He was glad he wasn’t friendless and penniless in a Third World country while suffering from it. I was grateful that I wasn’t caring for a small child and an infant who were exploding at either end while I was doing the same. I armed Chira with ant-nausea medicine, Imodium, and Lemon Recharge. He’s still looking pale and weak, but at last check he was able to keep some diluted Lemon Recharge down.

Sylvia came over as planned to take me on a walk. It’s so much easier to walk with a friend when one is in recovery mode. We walked for about a mile, which was a lot for me under the circumstances, but I managed it. Afterwards, I made lunch, a nice bland soup, my current specialty, using leftovers from the refrigerator. Then we cleaned up the kitchen with a bit more thoroughness than it had seen for a day or two. It was a lot of activity and my energy held out.

This all bodes well for the San Diego trip. This is my final week before chemo and I’m grateful to be back on my feet to enjoy it. The prayer below came to me via email today and it seems apropos.

St. Theresa's Prayer:
May today there be peace within.
May you trust God that you are exactly where you are meant to be.
May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith.
May you use those gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you.
May you be content knowing you are a child of God.
Let this presence settle into your bones, and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise and love.
It is there for each and every one of us.