The infusion center is a humbling place. Cancer takes ones false sense of security away. It gives time a shape with finite edges.
Some days I want our old life back. The one where I had the luxury of saying No to walks with my husband. In this new reality, I know time is limited and consequently I appreciate it more.
Cancer takes so much. And cancer gives on a very significant level, many lessons to be learned on this path.
Nice writing Cisco99. I would venture to guess, though, that the tough guy in the motorcycle jacket was involved in a lot more care giving and compassion in lots of other ways in the rest of their lives outside of that infusion waiting room.
(That reminds me of the times in some support groups when my wife has said something like, ... "but I'm not the one who has cancer", ... to which I sometimes point out, ... "Yes, Dear, but you are Married to Cancer." The love and support and care and compassion and our sharing of the whole of the experience - good and bad - comes with the territory and whatever journey we continue to share together. )
I read The Razor's Edge when I was younger. (Liked the title.) Like so many of the classic books, I don't remember a lot. I do remember being young, so I guess that counts for something.
Thank you for your writing, for your noticing. This is why when I go to my Cancer Center I always go early to spend more time int the waiting area. It is a sacred place.
Well my waiting room story goes like this.... As a reluctant member of a few hospitals in NYC I have a registered nickname of "HANDSOME" in their database... Inasmuch as my surname is hard to pronounce I ask the staff to call me "handsome" instead. Well It's great to watch most of the people's faces in the crowded waiting room when the staff comes out to call me into the doctor's conference room. Most people do a double take and my comment to them as I walk away is "I used to be Gorgeous but was recently downgraded to handsome".... NO BS....
Wow ... after we pop a few holes in that ego, we’ll have to get you included in LuLu’s next cacti photo shoot. Sounds like we have the material brewing for a calendar. ( all obvious envy totally intentional )
In my infusion waiting room, there is often a volunteer musician playing soft soothing music. Lately, it has been a lady playing a big harp. As I look around, I suspect that I'm the only one that sees the irony here.
I actually complained about the "funeral music" being played in Kaiser cancer waiting room. Nothing happened so did a written complaint. After a few weeks it went away. Results were dramatic. Instead of staring at walls or floors people were talking and laughing. Really, why kick us when we're down. I know someone had good intentions, but we are still the same people we always were. We just have cancer. How about a little Pink Floyd.
When I was lying on the table for eight straight weeks receiving my radiation treatments, they often played Creedence. Now I like Creedence well enough, but they would play it like three times a week. Finally, trying to be funny, I mentioned to the nurse about how the music reminded me of The Big Lebowski. The nurse was about 25 and gave me a blank stare. She had obviously never heard of Creedence or The Big Lebowski. I felt like I was about 100 years old.
Content on HealthUnlocked does not replace the relationship between you and doctors or other healthcare professionals nor the advice you receive from them.
Never delay seeking advice or dialling emergency services because of something that you have read on HealthUnlocked.
Still above room temperature.
Waiting for Pluvecto but willing to try Oxfigo
Anxiously waiting 
Slow rising PSA. Wait and watch?
Wait and see where the horse is headed
