That day during the second week in December was calmer and warmer
than usual. The day we were due in Wake Forest Hospital for the routine bore
into Paul’s spine for bone marrow to check the progression of the disease or
the treatment. The routine we knew well.
We left early, drove our favored back roads through Floyd
Virginia, Fancy Gap, Mt Airy North Carolina and our beloved Mt Pilot.
From the Food Lion, half way and with a nice restroom, we
bought a turkey sub (to be shared) and two small bottles of red wine. Whether
wine was permitted we never asked. We did not want to know. But in the event it
was prohibited, I must confess, we concealed the bottles with drink covers.
Settled in two seats in the waiting area near the outpatient
intake office we began our picnic. Barely had we taken our first bites and sips when our ears were regaled with a harp quartet of holiday music. Sandwiches and
wine in hand we went to the railing overlooking the floor below. Before our
eyes were four lovely ladies, perched daintily on stools before their harps, pouring out angelic music.
Sodium laden sandwiches, forbidden wine and angelic harp
music combined all the elements, not
enough needed to alleviate all worry and
pain, but it surely went a long way.
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