Sunday dinner with my family this week was a bitter-sweet experience. The bitter part came right about clean up time. As usual, I made a half-hearted attempt at doing the dishes, expecting at any minute that someone would shoo me away to the nearest welcoming couch. That has pretty much been the case since I was diagnosed in April, 2011.
However, as I began to rinse the plates, I couldn’t help but to notice that nobody was trying to stop me. Just to make sure they knew what I was doing, I made a few loud inquiries such as, “Did anyone see the scrub brush?” and “Are there any more dirty plates in the dining room?”. I felt like a little kid shouting, “Look at me, I’m running with scissors!” But to no avail. They just stood idly by as I soaked and scrubbed. So I have to assume that this particular perk has sadly come to an end. The sweet thing about that is the realization that my family no longer looks at me and sees a cancer patient. Instead they see someone whose turn it is to wash the dishes. SWEET!