NEGOTIATING THE TWISTS AND TURNS

Sometimes our light goes out, but is blown again into instant flame by an encounter with another human being.  Each of us owes the deepest thanks to those who have rekindled this inner light."  Dr. Albert Schweitzer


When I think back over the past five years on this cancer journey with Ernie, I am amazed by his ability to withstand all the changes that have occurred from surgeries to hospitalizations to radiation to physical therapy.  Now the journey is taking another twist and another turn with infusion chemotherapy.  

This past week was our first visit for Ernie's chemo infusion.  I couldn't help but notice the number of caregivers sitting in the outer lobby, some knitting, some reading, some involved with their smart phones or i pads, but all engaged in an activity that would fill time until the visit ended.  

We were ushered back into a four space 'pod' with privacy curtains.  Each had an elevated television, an extra chair for a visitor or caregiver and a hospital tray on wheels that moved in front of or away from the large patient's stratalounger chair.  A movable IV stand stood ready for the bags of chemo infusion.  The room had a large window and I noticed a sign on the wall just to the right of the patient chair that read "Laughter 2".  After the nurse came in, I asked her about the sign.   She informed us that the name of the pod was 'laughter' and that all rooms down the hall were named as well.  Feeling a bit confused as we had not thought of any part of this process as something funny, I spent some time during our day to reflect on the name and the concept of naming these rooms.

During the six hours we spent on this first day of infusion, I became a watcher of the people around us.  The lady next to us and the friend who came were busily engaged in conversation and laughter.  The lady across from us seemed to be engaged with her smart phone.  An elderly woman and her son occupied another space.  I had to smile when Ernie's ESPN sports center program on his television seemed to be at battle with the audio of her program - "The Young and the Restless".  We occupied the fourth space in the 'pod'.  Just like a portion of the lyrics in the song "Thankful"(which precedes this blog entry): 'Even with our differences, there is a place we're all connected.  Each of us can find each other's love', for this day our lives intersected, connected by a process to hold cancer at bay or treat it.  

All playing a specific part of the day's drama, visitors from the medical community came and went throughout the day.  Two young pharmacy interns who looked to us to be barely out of their teens ( a perception problem older adults have), explained the possible side effects of the drugs.  Since we are just days before Halloween, I couldn't help but wonder if their primary purpose was to scare us, but of course I realized their visit was protocol for any patient beginning this regimen. 

During the infusion, Ernie slept.  I read and listened to music simultaneously on my ipad.  The next day we spent waiting for and watching for possible side effects and thankfully none came. We will follow this regimen every three weeks for the remainder of Ernie's life.  I've thought about that laughter name since we left and am beginning to understand at a deeper level that if I can laugh at the absurdity of life instead of brooding over it, then I can help Ernie negotiate better through the twists and turns ahead.