Key Lime Pie

From very early in her diagnosis, my goal was to make every day the best day it could possibly be for Amy. Thus began our new approach to life. We jokingly referred to this new philosophy as the Year of No Budget. We would not hold back from anything we wanted to do out of financial concerns. We would forge ahead with whatever made Amy happy or could distract her from her treatments.

The first purchase under this philosophy was a new bed with an adjustable base. The metastasized cancer in her chest paralyzed her left vocal cord. Whether it was the acid reflex or the difficulty breathing, Amy could only sleep sitting upright. She could not lay flat. We had improvised with a reading pillow, but we needed a more permanent solution, and the adjustable frame solved this problem perfectly.

Being able to travel with this limitation posed a challenge for us. Fortunately, my brother-in-law, Jerry, designed and built a portable device that would adjust any mattress to five or six upright positions. We affectionately called it the contraption. It worked perfectly and gave Amy the assurance that she would be comfortable whenever we traveled.

We laid plans to take a chemo vacation to Florida at the end of February assuming her cancer markers continued to trend in the right direction. We let our dear friend Jackie plan an adventure for us. In addition to our traditional sanctuary to their condo, we would venture down into the Keys with stops in Islamorada and Key West.

Amy was apprehensive about flying so we procured gummies of a medicated nature that she took on her way to the airport. It worked to perfection as she slept comfortably most of the flight and car ride from Tampa to Siesta Key.

We arrived to beautiful weather and took the first couple of days to transition to vacation mode. We spent time at numerous establishments enjoying the water views and libations. Without a doubt though, Amy’s favorite part of the day was our nightly conversations with Joe and Jackie on their lanai. No subject was off limits, and we often had silly and wild conversations that got us all laughing. Something we needed desperately. We made sure that Amy got plenty of rest though, even if we had to cut her lanai time short each night.

After a few days, we headed south toward Highway 1 and the Keys. Jackie found the most wonderful accommodations for us in both locations that made it easier for Amy to relax and just enjoy the sunshine and warm temperatures. Our first night was in Islamorada. The Vrbo was at Little Basin Villas that included a heated pool just off the dock and offered plentiful sunshine.

We ran into a problem on our first night, however. It was a pleasant night and we thought we would walk to a local establishment just a couple of blocks down the road. Joe and Jackie went ahead to scout out a table on the beach. Amy struggled. Within the first 100 yards she was exhausted from her chemo treatment a few days earlier. She was in tears as we slowly made our way to the restaurant. I knew then that we would not be able to do the simple tasks we had once taken for granted.

Later, when I was alone with Joe, I let him know Amy and I needed to Uber everywhere, even if it was across the street. Joe and Jackie immediately picked up on our needs and volunteered to get a head start to the restaurants and establishments the rest of the trip allowing Amy to rest longer and avoid strenuous exercise.

We set aside time in the afternoons for Amy to nap and rest. One afternoon she curled up on the couch of our Vrbo and fell asleep under her Courage blanket given to her by one of her high school friends. As I watched her sleep, I contemplated our future and my thoughts turned dark. She began to stir after a couple of hours, and I vowed not to let my thoughts intrude on this trip.

We moved south to Key West and found a better rhythm. On the first night, we took in Key West’s infamous sunset. Amy and I danced as the sun set behind us. I will admit, not all of my thoughts were of the moment, but were instead contemplating how many more moments with Amy I might be afforded.

Jackie had found us a hotel on the water in Key West that boasted its own beach and private pool area. Amy and I did not stray from the hotel except for nightly meals and a bar or two. Each night we returned to the hotel while Jackie and Joe continued to explore Key West.

After I got her settled into bed with the contraption propping up her mattress, Amy sent me out in search of a piece of Key Lime Pie. The doctor had assured us that no calories were bad calories when you are on chemo. The first couple of nights I was able to obtain them at the pool bar.

One night we had a late dinner at a very nice restaurant on the other side of the island. We were seated next to legendary football coach Dick Vermeil. By the time we returned to our room for the night, the kitchen was closed.

I felt panic. With everything Amy was going through, there was no way I was coming back to the room without her Key Lime Pie. I begged the pool bartender to sneak into the kitchen and smuggle out a piece for me. He finally agreed to try after he served another couple waiting for their drinks. I nervously waited for him to return and was relieved to see him walk back in with a to-go bag. I tipped him generously and returned to our room with my prize.

Amy was curious why I was away so long, but I deflected her by telling her there was a large party in the pool area and I had to wait to get service. I did not want her to know how desperate I had become to procure her pie. As usual, she only ate half, leaving me the remainder.

As she dozed off to sleep that night, I contemplated our trip to Key West. I was saddened. I had hoped the trip would be filled with small moments of happiness and memories. Maybe I just can’t see it now, but mostly, I feel pain and guilt at furthering Amy’s struggles by taking her away from where she was most comfortable.

Perhaps my feelings will fade with time. But I doubt I will ever be able to return to Key West . . . or enjoy a piece of Key Lime Pie.