We have a good friend who is from India.
She is a former professor of mine, and Shelley and I have kept in touch with her over the years. We've had multiple dinners, lunches, picnics, and all sorts of times where we've gotten together, had great conversations, and shared good food.
In case any of you don't know this already, Shel has a massive affinity for all things Indian.
Whether it be food (Neehees, Curry on Crust, Shalimar, etc. etc) or the clothes or the spices or the movies or whatever... she just loves the culture of India. That predates me for sure.
Our friend offered to make us dinner once a week, and make us Indian food at that. Shelley was beyond excited by this offer.
So tonight was the night that she wanted to bring the dinner up to us at the hospital.
It had been a semi-rough day for lots of reasons, and almost none of them medical. Information, over-stim, visits, lack of sleep, chemo discomfort, and more.
We got Amelie to lay down and Shelley and I sat outside our room for a moment of silence and connection. Iman walked into the hospital almost on cue at that point.
Amelie was out cold. The food was hot. The conversation was great. The food was AMAZING (even the cauliflower which I usually detest). The length and breadth of talking about things that WERE NOT ILLNESS AND CANCER was so beyond great.
It was rejuvenating, and amazing, and necessary. Did I mention wonderful? That too.
Tonight is the last night of the cycle of Chemo, and I'm crashing at a friend's house again in Belleville. I have a 5 minute drive to work in the morning. Oh. My.