The events had been on my calendar for weeks. A choir concert on Sunday afternoon. A train trip with The Ladies Who Lunch on Monday. Lots of joy. Lots of friends. Lots of fun. Lots of anticipation.
I love handbell choirs, and the new church we joined has one. Along with a choir, an organ, and a grand piano. The music is wonderful, and I enjoy it each Sunday morning. A concert to wrap up the season was planned for Sunday afternoon, and I was looking forward to it.
Once a month The Ladies Who Lunch meet for lunch, sometimes going on an adventure to find our meal. Such was the plan for Monday. One of the members of the group has a four-year old grandson who loves trains but had never ridden on one. The plan was to catch the Amtrak San Joaquin in Fresno and ride about 35 miles south to the small town of Hanford, where there is a most marvelous ice cream parlor within walking distance of the railroad station. It is the perfect day trip. Especially for a four-year old.
Saturday night I became horribly, horribly ill. Severe stomach pains. Sweats. Nausea. Vomiting. Dizziness. The Sunday concert was definitely a no-go. I tried to get better all day Sunday but just couldn’t do it. I could hardly get out of bed. I couldn’t concentrate. Couldn’t hold my head up. Finally, Sunday evening, I gave in and texted my friends that I probably wouldn’t make it after all for the train trip and to not be surprised if I didn’t show up. Sure enough, Monday morning was not much better. I remained in bed.
Two days of being sick. That was bad enough, but missing two long-anticipated events was the worst. There can be no re-dos. No second chances. I am so disappointed. But, I am feeling better and was able to run my errands today and do laundry.