The sun is up early now and what was a mild night time quickly warms up to unfold a bright, sunny day. If you’re an exerciser, you plan your run, walk or biking route early in the morning, before the humidity starts to creep out of the grass and trees and begins to wrap itself around your moving body. Humidity where I live, is fierce and even though it’s still May, the hot, humid days of summer are already flirting with the calendar.
Inside the chemo room, pillows are being fluffed. The angels of the room, the nurses, are not only hanging bags of chemicals targeted to kill cancer cells, but they’re throwing on an extra blanket over a patient who gets the chills from his four hour drip. He’s offered a bag of cookies, a cup of tea, some water, whatever will make him feel better, because along with the chills, comes the nausea and headache chemotherapy guarantees.
He can only look out the window and see the reflection of the daylight on the walls of the hospital that block any other view. He can’t feel the humidity rising, but it’s a good bet his own body temperature will rise if he gets a reaction from his meds. The only walking he’ll do will be measured by well he feels after a day in the chemo room getting therapy.
He wasn’t always this lethargic, in fact odds are before he heard the words “You have cancer,” he was a busy, engaged and lively guy who had a very full life.
Now, he joins a room full of people, just like himself, who viewed this day, like a normal day, some time ago.
He remembers those days, just like it was yesterday.