Radiation waiting room
Here I am in the waiting room of the clinic, as I am each morning in the work week. It is a beautiful place but also a very sad place. As I am surrounded by many people with tragic lives I feel both deeply fortunate and guilty as my prognosis is often vastly different from others here. Yesterday I was drawn into conversation with 2 women and as the one whose husband has just received the news that his days are drawing to an end was comforted by the other who had stage 4 melanoma, I found myself unable to speak into this sea of tragedy. Here was a circle in which I didn't belong and I wished that I had the right words, but instead I could only listen.
This also reawakens the sorrow I feel as I recently heard of the death from cancer of a friend from college. She was one of the nicest people I know and it is taking time to digest. She was so full of life, very active and health conscious, it is hard to believe. She was 53 and she has left behind 3 kids and a lovely husband. It is all taking time to digest and for the shock to progress to grief.
As for me I am halfway done with 3 weeks to go. My skin is starting to darken and I am getting tired, but what is that in the big scheme of things? There is so much to be thankful for and I am challenged to not feel sorry for myself. I can do this.
This also reawakens the sorrow I feel as I recently heard of the death from cancer of a friend from college. She was one of the nicest people I know and it is taking time to digest. She was so full of life, very active and health conscious, it is hard to believe. She was 53 and she has left behind 3 kids and a lovely husband. It is all taking time to digest and for the shock to progress to grief.
As for me I am halfway done with 3 weeks to go. My skin is starting to darken and I am getting tired, but what is that in the big scheme of things? There is so much to be thankful for and I am challenged to not feel sorry for myself. I can do this.
Comments