Saturday afternoon, Barry and I were at the Infusion Center to receive my Nulastin injection to boost my white blood cells. As I sat quietly waiting, I looked around and listened to the conversations around me.
The gentleman sitting to my right was on his second round of chemotherapy for bladder cancer; the lady to the right said hello and dozed back off quickly.
There was a young man in his twenties sitting across, the nurses’ s were hanging blood for. His bloodwork needs boosting to continue his treatments next week.
The gentleman in the chair next to him, had his wife with him. She she speaking to the lady two chairs down from me. The lady down from me, was stating that she was giving up. Her husband could no longer sit with her, he was tearful and upset. He left the room and twenty minutes, a young lady showed up to sit with her mother.
After listening a while longer, she revealed that she was going through her sixth round of chemotherapy for the last time. Years ago, it had started in her breast and just spread around her body, until she now had brain cancer and nothing was helping.
She said she cannot do it anymore and is ready for her seat in heaven. Her daugher started to cry. I started tearing up, Barry pulled the curtain to allow what little privacy that is avaiable.
As I listened, to the hustle and bustle around me, I was hit with the sheer magnitude of the number of people that float though those rooms. The waiting room is always full, and when called back for my turn, I’m taken to the only empty seat in a bay.
It is truly sad to see all of these wonderful peeple going through the agony of chemotherapy. But this is still a statement for how far medical technology has come. All those people in there numerous times surviving, although having to come back for more.
I’ll continue this post after I look up some numbers. They have to be up there. I never thought about it before this date.