The sound of the Cancer Center is muted most of the time. Footsteps walking to treatment don’t make much sound. T-stands rolling across the floor with bags of fluids swaying back and forth really don’t talk much either. If anything, they convey the message of cancer, or what it takes to fight it.
New patients are overheard asking for directions and veteran patients walk with a purpose; they just want to get to their appointment and move on to better times.
So there he was, with his double-filtered mask covering his nose and mouth. His ball cap fit perfectly on his bald head. He was dressed in comfortable clothes, so maybe he had a chemo treatment coming up, or maybe he’d learn from so many visits to the Cancer Center, that clothes should be comfortable, not fashionable when you’re fighting cancer. So it wasn’t his appearance that drew me to him, it was his ability to slow the pace of cancer that day because he was playing the piano in the lobby and it was magical.
The notes literally hung in the air. A man at the elevator stood there with tears in his eyes. A young family made up of a cancer patient, a wife and two kids huddled together and just listened. Another couple held hands across the two chairs they were sitting in and just looked at one another. I can only imagine what they were thinking.
This young man had managed to silence cancer with his sound of music.