Page 9 of The Cutting Edge
First rule of parenting – the kid schedule trumps all.
“Are you hungry? Is there any special kind of food or medicine you need?” I ask Mrs. Markham.
“I’m hungry,” says Poppy.
“I know sweetie, I’ll get you something to eat in a few minutes.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you,” says Mrs. Marham, “but Coco already made sure to pick up all my medications and stocked the refrigerator with plenty of fluids and comfort foods.”
Even though I barely know Coco, this doesn’t surprise me. As concerned as she was about Ms. Markham being alone in the hospital – she seems like a very conscientious person. It makes me feel even worse for being late today and setting all of this in motion. Here, I’ve got my head up my ass over a game — and this is real life and death stuff.
“The nurse mentioned you have another 20 minutes or so of your treatment. Would you mind if I ran Poppy down to the cafeteria to grab some dinner for her before we go? I promise we’ll be quick.”
“Of course,” says Mrs. Markham, her eyelids fluttering. “I’m feeling a bit tired, I think I'll just close my eyes for a few minutes." She shudders a bit as her eyes close, and I notice she’s shivering.
Pulling a white folded blanket from one of the unused recliners, I place it over Mrs. Markham and tuck it in around her as gently as I can.
“Thank you,” she sighs, “that’s better.”
"Do you need anything before we go?" I ask, and Mrs. Markham wordlessly shakes her head “No”.
Taking Poppy's hand, I lead her back to the nurses’ station and ask for directions to the cafeteria. My stomach is growling too, after six hours of brutal practice, but since my diet is comprised primarily of meat and I have to balance my macros as cautiously as though I were disarming a nuclear bomb, I'll probably have to wait until Poppy and I get home.
"The cafeteria is on the third floor,” says the overly friendly nurse, who I now notice is wearing a large blue name tag that readsAlexis. She waggles a finger at me and says, "Don't worry, I've got you covered. Just follow me."
To be honest, I'd rather just go to the cafeteria, but I'm worried that we’ll run out of time before it's time to take Mrs. Markham home. Alexis comes out from behind the desk at the nurses' station, and motions for us to follow her. We trail her down the hallway and she pops into a small room around the corner, housing a large refrigerator and what looks likeanotherlarge refrigerator with a glass front door and a bunch of folder white blankets inside. Maybe a blanket warmer? I have a towel warmer in my en suite at home, and I seriously don’t know how I ever lived without it.
Alexis opens the refrigerator door, and leans inside, "OK, I've got turkey sandwiches, apple juice, orange juice, cranberry juice, pineapple juice, Jell-O, pudding, we might have some Popsicles…
"Yes! Popsicles!" shrieks Poppy.
I look at her pointedly, silently reminding her that she needs to keep her voice down for the sake of the patients. Her eyes fall downward and her face flushes as she offers a short, “Sorry!”
"How about a turkey sandwich first? And a popsicle later?" I say. I frame it as a question, but both Poppy and I know it's not.
"Fine."
"One turkey sandwich coming up,” says Alexis with more enthusiasm than any turkey sandwich has ever mustered in history. “How about you, Logan? Can I interest you in a turkey sandwich? Or maybe dinner at my place sometime?”
“No thanks, I’m not hungry,” I say with a stiff smile, intentionally ignoring her second question.
Alexis’s cute and all, but it’s a little off-putting that she’d be giving me the full-court press in front of my kid, not to mention while we’re here to visit an old lady with cancer. Usually, puck bunnies stick a bit closer to the rink.
Alexis hands a turkey sandwich in a small plastic container to Poppy, along with an apple juice cup. "Do you need any mayonnaise or mustard?"
"No thank you, "says Poppy.
"Come see me when you're done, and I'll hook you up with that popsicle,” she smiles.
“Thank you,” I say, “I really appreciate it.”
“Anything you need.”
Alexis, Poppy, and I walk back towards the chemo suite, and she motions to a waiting room along the way, “Your daughter can eat in there.”
“Can I take my mask off now?” asks Poppy.
“It will be tough to eat your sandwich if you don’t” laughs Alexis.
