I’m in Washington, D.C. for the BCAN Leadership conference, hoping to learn more about advocacy and more about bladder cancer. That means I’m in a hotel room all by myself. I have a King bed and a huge television, dozens of pillows, a couch, and towels. Clean, dry towels hung neatly in a row.
I love my family, and I’m more grateful for them than they will ever know. If life is a bumpy road sometimes, I know that I have people I love nearby to provide the shock absorbers.
I have to say, however, that being alone in a hotel room is my idea of heaven. When I walked in last night, close to midnight I fell down dramatically on the bed, looked at the ceiling and sort of giggled.
The room is freezing, which I love, because there’s down-filled loveliness everywhere. And it’s white. And clean. And neatly arranged on a bed big enough for three or four of me.
I snuggled under the covers, with only my arm outside of them to hold the remote. That television has to be three feet wide. I ran through the channels and then ran through them some more. I watched news and comics and sports, but for only about 10 minutes each because I have a short attention span.
This morning—despite first waking up at 5:45 as someone seemingly emptied the entire ice machine, which is just outside my room—I had nowhere to be until noon so I lolled in bed with my remote and ordered room service.
Room service is the best. Even oatmeal and coffee. Everything is in its own little dish with a cover.
As I sat there watching television news programs I’ve never really seen before, drinking so-so coffee and and eating mediocre oatmeal, I felt so good. So lucky. So grateful.
I’m in a cool quiet room that once I mess it up I don’t have to clean. I’m going to take a shower in a spotless, glass enclosed space. The floor will be dry. All of the towels will be dry. There will be no toothpaste in the sink.
I have no dog to walk, no errands to run, no bread to bake, no light bulbs to change. I’m not waiting for the plumber or commuting to work.
It’s just a quiet space where I can indulge and relax and be grateful that once in a great while I’m alone in a hotel room.
So, this is just to say I’m remembering to be grateful on a Friday morning at the Hilton, in bed with my remote.