Chicken Breasts

I don't know how to explain it, but my brain is working in some strange ways these days.

On Monday, we had a visit from the Willetts, a family we met at Ronald McDonald House last year. Mandi attended the Hutch School with David; her little sister, Samantha, was the patient, (and is now in remission from leukemia). Their mom, Karla, is a nurse. Sammi has a Caringbridge page (www.caringbridge.org/visit/samanthaspage) and Karla has a blog (A Little Something to Share, to which you can find a link on the right side of this page). She drove them down to see us, as it is Mandi's spring break this week (Karla's husband, Mike, wasn't with them). I am going to post a few of Karla's photos, since she took all of the pictures.

We spent time on our beach and in our woods. They all enjoyed the rope swing. We showed them around Poulsbo, visited Katie's bench and the local bakery, shops and candy store. Then we came back to have dinner with Gregg, who was home from work by then.

Karla and I got into a discussion about the need for research into new methods of treating cancer. We both know of cases of patients dying from the side effects of treatment, as well as from the disease itself. We were talking about possible causes of cancer, too, and wondering about vaccinations, our food chain, pesticides, hormones fed to the animals that we eat, etc. I mentioned the hormones in milk, and how the milk cows are constantly lactating. Karla brought up hormones in chickens. I asked, "Don't they lay an egg every day, anyway?" She said, "I mean the size of their breasts." Now, we had just been discussing cows and milk, so I am thinking: udders. I asked, "Chickens have breasts?" Everyone at the table stopped and stared at me. Everything seemed to stand still for a moment; they were looking at me as if I had completely lost my mind. Then the "aha" moment arrived. Oh. Chicken breasts. Like thighs and drumsticks. Mandi and David turned pink, and laughed. Gregg and Karla laughed harder, and I think I laughed the hardest of all.

Menopause? Middle age? Chemo-brain by osmosis (from caring for a patient living with chemo)? Stress? Trauma? I don't know, but I am glad that I can laugh about it. Please feel free to have a laugh at my expense.