Tuesday, October 21, 2014
Run/ Walk/ Bike/ Elliptical (Today: 3.82 miles; Cumulative Total: 7.11 miles)
Day 102 of *Another* 100 Days of Good Karma.
My friend Wendy accompanied me to chemotherapy today. After being escorted to an exam room one of the oncology nurses gave me a mini silver lining.
She asked if I was experiencing any anxiety or stress.
I chuckled. “I have cancer,” I said.
She laughed, then said, “But it’s not metastatic.”
True! That’s a pretty good silver lining in my book.
The oncologist came in and performed a breast exam. She seemed optimistic.
She couldn’t feel the edges of the largest tumor, and said she thought I was responding to the chemotherapy.
We had to wait a little while to be called back to the infusion area. Wendy and I ate our lunches in the waiting room and listened to other patients complain about the wait time.
One man told me, “There’s no sense of urgency here.”
I was polite but I didn’t agree with him. I told him that had not been my experience at all, that I’d only had good experiences with the staff there.
The cancer center I go to deals with all types and stages of cancer. From what I’ve seen, the oncology nurses work their hearts out behind the scenes.
They care about their patients. So much so that they forbid the word ‘die’ from the infusion area.
The way I saw it, if there was a delay, then there was a damn good reason for it. Those of us in the waiting room would just have to wait our turn.
I was finally called back to the infusion area, hooked up to an IV drip and all proceeded according to plan.
As I was leaving the building a little boy, maybe eight or nine years old, walked past me in the hallway. He seemed mentally handicapped. Maybe some sort of autism, but I’m only guessing.
He looked at me as he passed, stopped, backed up.
He stood in front of me for a moment
“Hello,” I said. I saw his eyes flick from my face to my head scarf, back to my face again.
He had a nervous habit of stroking his straight blonde hair flat, pulling it up between his fingers, then stroking it flat again.
I waited patiently. I knew what was coming.
“You don’t have any hair,” he said. It was more question than statement.
I smiled. “I sure don’t.”
“But… what happened to it?”
“Well, it just all fell out,” I said as seriously as I was able. Which, if I’m being honest, wasn’t all that serious.
His face was priceless.
His hand froze in his hair raising it in blonde spikes sticking up straight off his head. His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open.
I laughed and nodded. “Yeah, pretty crazy, huh?”
I looked at the man he was with, his grandfather I assume. The man looked embarrassed and called the boy away, but I really didn’t mind.
The kid wasn’t trying to embarrass me. That would have made the conversation much different. But he clearly didn’t understand and was just curious.
When I got home, I found a package waiting on my doorstep.
As celebration of hitting 100 days of good karma, my friend Erica sent me my very own Star Trek uniform complete with a set of Vulcan ears.
How awesome is that??
I can’t wait to wear it for Halloween.
Hell, I might just wear it to the grocery store and see how that goes.
Today’s silver lining: Today was my last treatment of Taxol.
Four rounds of FAC start next Tuesday. Due to the strength of the drug, those will be administered once every three weeks. But I’m half way through chemo!!
Live long and prosper, my friends.
What’s your silver lining today? I love comments!
Don’t want to leave a comment, but have something you want to share? Send me an email at gettingthewordswrong(at)gmail(dot)com.