Chemo - Day One
Upon pulling in to the Providence cancer center parking garage, late of course, I immediately felt my nerves start to get the best of me. It’s really easy to put on a brave face, and speak positive words, but actually believing them is different. When faced with a diagnosis there are so many unknowns and fears and worries about the what if’s. I started to cry while checking in with the receptionist and gave my name and which doctor I was there to see in some sort of incomprehensible whisper sob. The receptionist commented “day one?” to which he confidently clarified that I am one day closer to being cured. He so warmly assured me that I am in the best medical hands and shared with me that his mother receives infusions for cancer in that same treatment room. I tried to look away but caught a glimpse of the infusion room through an open threshold just beyond his right shoulder. The tears persisted and were now giant crocodile tears, so weighted and full that they missed any chance to roll off my cheeks and fell directly from my eyes down to my toes. I was crying because yes, I was scared, but also because of the empathy from this man who I’d never met before. What I’ve learned so far is it doesn’t really matter what you say to someone faced with a hard fight, as long as it’s positive and provides love and strength, the person is going to feel it and maybe actually believe it. There’s nothing you can say to take away the disease but there is a lot you can say that will add to their fight. [...]
[...]
