There’s a radio station in Maryland that does news, sports and weather around the clock and I tune-in as I drive up to Hopkins. Actually it’s the traffic reports that help guide me to the 95 North. So today, being Friday, they do a “Freebie Friday” segment and talk about all the special things that businesses do for customers on Fridays and they talk about weekend events too. They make a big deal about it being Friday; end of the work week, time to relax over the weekend.
And then I get to the Cancer Center, go up the elevator and find myself in the out-patient waiting room. I haven’t been there for quite a while. I look around and my eyes stop at woman with a mask on, very little hair and her hands are swollen. She’s clearly in treatment for her cancer. I watch her for a few minutes and she just stares into space. I can only imagine what her thoughts are because so many of us have had those same thoughts. I continue to look around the room and there’s a woman who looks very healthy, dressed nicely, with the morning paper on her lap. She reads a little and then puts the paper down. She looks at her watch, looks around the room, puts her hand to her chin but that ‘s not comfortable so she picks up the paper and tries to read some more. Being a care giver, waiting, in that room isn’t much better than being the patient. The imagination is a terrible thing to have in a cancer waiting room.
In runs a little boy with his dad not far behind. Mom is the patient and she’s saved a couple of chairs for her son and husband, but the little guy makes a lot of noise, so dad rushes him out before someone complains. As he leaves he kisses his wife because he probably knows she will be in seeing the doctor before he’s able to get his son calmed down. This room has no meaning to the little boy. It has long aisles that are made for running and a lot of chairs that are made for climbing. The cancer in the room, doesn’t play a roll here for the toddler.
So many scenarios playing out on this Friday in the out-patient waiting room. I can’t imagine anyone in here is thinking that it’s the end of the work week or that it’s time to relax or where they can go to get a “Friday Freebie.”
Friday is Friday…a day with cancer, like any other day.
August 3, 2012 @ 6:19 pm
Different rooms can elicit such different emotions and memories. Waiting in the doctor’s waiting room and then the exam room were usually excruciating because one never knew if it would be a good day or not. The treatment rooms were usually happy and full of life..oncology nurses are so good at lifting spirits. Hospital rooms…well we all know what they are like. I still get physically sick when I approach the hospital eventhough my visits are very different now. Yesterday was the funeral for our little 8 year old boy that the Shenandoah Valley had adopted as their own. He had a full fireman’s funeral because they had made him an honorary chief and over 5,000 people were in attendance. That room (a high school gym) was filled with love for little Trent and his family.
August 3, 2012 @ 5:05 pm
Laurie, your words and insight into this dreaded disease always amaze me. Only you can see beyond the fight and see the pain in the faces of the families or see the excitement of a child in his innocence.You can even see the beauty of a cold cancer room.
Thank you for those insights, it helps to keep us humble…
Yesterday, marks one year since Dom passed away. It was an odd sort of day for me. Remembering the little guy that flew around the dance floor. Great memories in so little time.
My best friend in KS, her mom is dying. Way past stage 4 lung cancer. Hospice is there, the Chaplain came by and played his guitar and sang for her. My friend Pam, she is so confused. It happened so quickly.. as it always does, and it didn’t give her any time. She has had a lot of years to be close to her mom, all I could say was tell her how much you love her, hold her hand and just be there. Comfort her as she leaves this world. Pam is ready to take that journey on. Her dad is ill, has poor health so it’s double duty for her and I am just happy she has a great hospice team helping her through this. I will see her when I land in KS next week for the start of a much needed two week vacation with my kids. For my friend Pam… I wish her strength and even long distance, she knows she has a big shoulder she can lean on… She knows I’ve been there and for some reason that gives her strength…for that, I am blessed.
My OC Family, I am never far away….your always in my thoughts and in my prayers. Laurie