One day in the middle of July I was slumped on the couch, feeling sorry for myself and staring out into our backyard. It was a day that I didn’t have to wear the portable chemo pump. The beautiful blue water in the pool looked so inviting. I debated whether or not I should go for a swim. Well, not really a swim. I didn’t have the energy for that. In fact, I didn’t even have the energy to put a bathing suit on. I finally decided to go in the pool in my shorts and tee shirt and drift around on one of the chair floats.
I made my way outside, kicked off my flip flops and gently descended the pool ladder at the shallow end so I could reach the float and hoist myself on it. It was heavenly. I floated around enjoying the blue sky and sunshine. It was so calming and relaxing. This was much more fun than lying on the couch on a gorgeous summer day. My shorts and shirt got wet but I didn’t care.
I wasn’t floating around for more than 15 minutes when I came to an alarming realization. My cell phone was in the pocket of my shorts. I immediately reached into my pocket to grab it out. It was soaked. I manuevered the float over to the edge of the pool and put the phone onto the concrete. Then I made my way out of the pool. I was so mad at myself. How could I have forgotten to take the phone out of my pocket? Once back inside the house, I placed the phone in a bowl of uncooked rice.
The next morning I took it out of the rice. It was deader than a door nail. Luckily I was due for an upgrade.
That was the one and only time I went in the pool that summer.