On the Liberace Couch

Having cancer and getting cancer treatment is very time consuming. Here I am waiting at the chemo unit. I have already waited at the blood lab and the Dr's office. A 1:15 appointment can easily get us home at 6:30 pm. I do this every Tuesday afternoon now. I am thankful for the series by Stieg Larsson, starting with The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. It has made the waiting easier.

Today I am writing from the chemo therapy treatment center. I have passed the half way point in my treatment. I have finished 3 months of Adriamycin Cytoxan and have started my 12 weekly treatments of Taxol. I have completed 3 and have 9 to go.

The most remarkable thing about coming to the treatment center is seeing the strength of the human spirit in the other patients. They are incredible people. In the presence of the other patients I feel humble and fortunate. I am reminded each week how lucky I am.

I spend Tuesday afternoons with an invisible population. You will not find them walking down the street, at work or at the store. They are sick with every kind of cancer you can imagine, many with grim prospects. I remember the first time I saw them, before I joined them and I still felt separate, different from "them". I realized the breadth of the population receiving cancer treatment. It is like going to the Department of Motor vehicles, but you go all the time and you never get your license.

They are bald, have wigs, walkers, canes and wheelchairs, or no outward sign of illness at all, and are being subjected to the most rigorous treatments. I overhear conversations regularly regarding treatment and prognosis, but I never hear complaining. I hear hope, I hear planning, I hear strength in the face of the cruelest tumors and treatments. They will not give in. They will not give up. They are amazing.

I also see the friends and families of the patients: daughters with mothers, husbands with wives, younger generations helping older generations, neighbors helping neighbors. Patience. Kindness. Almost no one is alone, pairs of people, one sick, one well, navigating the halls, the waiting rooms, the treatment center. I have been lucky and Dave has been able to accompany me to all my chemo therapy appointments so far. I also know that should he not be able to go one week, I have a "go to" list of volunteers. I will never have to face the prospect of going alone.

I no longer feel out of place in the clinics and waiting rooms, occasionally I will sense someone is visiting for the first time and I am reminded how I felt on my first visit, when everything was strange and unfamiliar.

Having cancer changes you...but in ways you couldn't have imagined.