Chemo

Let me first tell my readers that I took three weeks off from blogging.  Between the Holidays, writer’s block, and flying to California to play with family, I took a nice break.  This piece begins year 3 of my dive in to the blogosphere (autocorrect knows the word).  Over the past three weeks I have been doing some intermittent Lyfting.  There are probably 20 stories I could reflect on and share but one in particular stands out. 

It was on December 31st and I got a ping to St. Joe’s hospital in central Denver.  As I pulled into the drive-in pick-up I got a call. “Hi there, I am sorry the GPS brought you to the main hospital, it always does.  Could you drive to the cancer center; I will talk you there”?  She gave me perfect directions as she guided me to a complex a bit away… Siri you have competition!!! I pulled up in that drive through to be met with a big smile.  She hopped in the front seat, I hit the welcome aboard swipe and up came her destination— Evergreen 🌲– 39 miles one way into the mountains. We headed west towards the mountains. 

Without prodding she began to tell me her story. “When the cancer was diagnosed my Oncologist said ‘There are two choices. You can have four chemo treatments with a 75% survival rate. Or you can do 20 with a 95% success rate’. I chose door #2”.  “That would have been my choice”.  “I am half way through.  There are four Lyft drivers up in the mountains.  They take turns parking by my house to pick me up for my trip down.  Today you get to take me home, I hope you don’t mind”? “Heck no, I need a trip up to the beauty of the mountains”. 

I soon realized that I was riding with a 4th generation Coloradoan like my self.  She matched me tit for tat on “Native Trivia”. She even had the right answer to “If you think of Colorado as a wrinkled sheet and you flattened it out what state could it cover”?  “Well, Texas of course” she said with a cackle.  “Ding ding ding… we have a winner”. About that time we came upon a herd of elk that caused us to stop the car.  We both said almost at the same time “And we live here”. 

We worked our way up a winding road that turned to gravel.  I was in forrest heaven. We pulled up into a dapper mountain cabin.  I thanked her for her resilience and faith. She thanked me for a “fun ride”.  This made my New Years Eve.

Welcome to the next decade.  May my stories continue to Lyft you up!

Onward and Upward,

Mark