Tom Sonday

But first, for those of you who wondered how our Christmas was — it was fine.  We didn’t really celebrate formally — Jessica had to work so remained in Atlanta; Ben & Becca made it home … but I was knocked out with a substantial cold.  There was much sleeping, and much eating of terrible-for-you chocolate baked goods — things we love to do, but no exchange of presents.

We did however exchange germs, and we’re currently passing my cold amongst ourselves, along with a bit of the flu.

Or perhaps the upset tummies are because of too many terrrible-for-you chocolate baked goods!

Anyway, one of the cool things that came about because of Tom’s cancer was learning of and appreciating our vast network of friends, old and new.  When daughter Becca had the idea of getting “bee-shirts” to show our support of Tom, it was great to see them on people all over the place — from Italy to Obama’s inauguration to being modeled by dogs and babies.

There are two photos I hadn’t posted yet.  The first is of Haley, daughter Jessica’s boyfriend’s daughter.  Haley is a charmer, and was proud to be on the Tommy Support Team.

There’s a bit of a story to go with the next picture, of Jodi, who Tom met during his first month stay at Bronson Hospital in ’08.  It represents the kind of guy Tommy was.

Jodi is a transport person, meaning when a patient needs to be moved elsewhere for a procedure, she moves them to the mobile bed, along with their medical devices and records, and wheels them wherever they need to go.

Even when Tom felt his worst, he was outgoing and friendly.  I wasn’t there when Jodi fetched him for a CT scan, and didn’t know anything about it.

A day or two later Jodi popped in to Tom’s room to say hello and to talk with him about bees, because they’d discussed them at length during their initial time together.  I wasn’t there at the time; I’d dashed home to shower and pay bills.

When I burst back in to the room, I was less than cordial.  Tommy was fighting for his life but unaccepting of the severity of the situation.  In fact — he was demanding he get out of the hospital asap because he needed to get home to take care of his bees.

I was wrung out from worry and coordination of everything else going on beyond his hospital room.  I was trying to be supportive of a person who (when he was coherent and not delirious from infection) said I wasn’t being very supportive because I wasn’t insisting that the docs release him, all while I was trying to digest what the docs were telling us about how critical things were and that he would might never get home … especially if things didn’t turn around soon.  I was carrying the world on my shoulders, only to find my husband having a nice chat with Jodi about bees and how she’d have to come by and visit his when he gets home.  He glared at me like I’d just majorly disrupted him — at a time when I felt he didn’t recognize how much his illness had disrupted all of our lives.

And I’d had it with him worrying about his stupid bees!!!  Why wasn’t he worrying about himself or the rest of us???!!!

(And now I worry about the bees.)

Anyway, Tom explained who Jodi was, and then probably drifted off into sleep … as she quietly exited the room.

That wasn’t the last we saw of her though.  Jodi genuinely cared, and continued to stop by during that hospital stay (and others that followed) to cheer Tommy.  It would’ve been easy enough to dismiss the frail, ill man in the bed she was pushing down the halls and do it without bothering to recognize him as anything else, but she instead saw Tommy as a person with unique qualities and gifts to offer, and took advantage of the opportunity to touch a life.  During one of our latter visits to Bronson we made sure she got a shirt, and she was very appreciative — which was odd.  We felt that Jodi was a special angel to us, but she instead insists it is she who came out ahead — she was moving a patient and in the process gained a friend.

Thanks Jodi, and all the rest of the friends we gained, for your support.