Written October 1, 2010  9:05 pm

Anita had another pretty busy day.  Today she was dressed and in and out of her wheelchair  (for Physical Therapy) for over eight (8) hours during the course of the day.  She started the day with a session of Speech Therapy (ST) during which she got the long awaited Coke, which reportedly tasted very, very good!!!  A PT session followed in the gym.  She then returned to her room and had a vent weaning session in the afternoon during which she remained off the ventilator for approx. five (5) hours.  During the vent weaning session, she talked to her sons and her mom by telephone.  She was somewhat tired after the vent weaning session and took it easy for the rest of the evening.

I finally got my Coke! Careful what you wish for.  The Speech Therapist advised me that the acidity of colas, makes them hard to swallow, and therefore a poor choice for the first fluid consumed in almost 2 months.  But I have been craving and dreaming of that sweet cola taste since August.  Besides, she doesn't know that I am a seasoned Coke drinker.

I remember the ice cold Coca-Cola in a bottle that was opened on the side of the cooler at the store. I'd quickly suck the foam from the top before it could flow over. Then I'd open that package of Lance peanuts and drop a few into the Coke.  The peanuts added a crunch, like ice, but with a warm flavor that tasted like summer baseball  games or fishing from the river bank.

Over the years my Coke consumption has declined, but sometimes it's the only thing that will quench a thirst.  And it has become my new obsession.  I think it symbolizes healing.  Progress.  The therapist brought in the small red, black and white can with a cup of ice.  She pulled the silver tab.  The Coke sighed and then glugged as it was poured into the cup.  My mouth watered as I watched the foam rise to the top.  The therapist opened the bendy straw and pushed it through the ice.  She commented  how this was not per protocol, but she could not deny my request.  She advised me to be careful and only take small sips as she lifted the straw to my lips.

I drew the brown liquid through the straw savoring its cold sweetness. I pushed my tongue to the roof of my mouth and tucked my chin to swallow.  It felt like shards of glass going down my throat.  Who coined the phrase "soft drink".  There was nothing delicate or easy going on in my throat.  My Speech Therapist raised her eyebrows, watchful for my reaction before taking the cup away.  I swallowed air and saliva to try and erase the burn, then I smiled and nodded to her.  I was afraid if I told her how badly it hurt, she would take it away. She smiled as she replaced the bendy straw with a long plastic one and set the Coke on my bedside table.  Now I could access it independently.  It took me all afternoon to finish that Coke, but sure was good.  Progress.  Now...for just a little while.