Maryann Austin

It is 4:50AM. I have hellacious acid reflux. I have consumed too many antacids. My rem ai ning option is to sit upright for a while with a cup of tea. I think it is helping. Chemo yesterday. I am now seeing a pattern to the first day of a cycle: i ncreasing fatigue and headache on the way home. Terrible headache and fatigue by the time we get home. Now reflux which is intense even for a seasoned GERD veteran like me. While lying in bed, it occurred to me that my body feels a bit like Route 66. Not the famous one. The infamous one. People who live near DC will know what I am talking about. Bill and I traverse this road to reach Georgetown University Hospital, where I am receiving treatment. I have lived in the DC area for decades, and I have never seen 66 not under construction. I am sure I never will. But, there is presently a new level of chaos which seems to have no limits. Early in the mornings, on our 90-minute drives (on good days), I am typically asleep by the time we are a

My mom is a devout Christian. Catholic her whole life, at 86 she prays the Rosary several times a day. Some people see this as a waste, or faith without works. I see it as an older person giving what they can, giving something that is valuable, doing something that is valuable (though not always valued). Sometimes when I am talking to my mom, more often than I would like to admit, I complain of my woes and current life circumstances. Her typical reply is to tell me to pray to God and ask Him to help me with whatever is my dilemma, my obstacle du jour. Knowing that I do so regularly, I sometimes reassure her that I do. If in a particularly down mood, I have been known to just nod or shrug. And I have many people besides my mom praying for me. There are people who know me, people who don’t know me, people who love me, and maybe even a few who don’t even like me. I am grateful for each prayer that goes up for me and my healing. (Warning to all my grammar friends: many