Special Moment Between Strangers

I had a doctor's appointment at Mercy Hospital today - inconveniently, right in the middle of the day. I made some lunch plans since I would be downtown, but the morning was rainy and dreary, so I cancelled the lunch plans and had to force myself to drive to the appointment. I did not want to go and I did not want to be at Mercy. Just walking through the doors can sometimes bring back a flood of bad memories - the first cancer, the first chemotherapy, the weight loss, the needles, the being sick, etc. etc. I know, lots of positive things happened and I did recover, but it is hard to forget all the bad stuff.

So, I navigate downtown traffic in the rain and then navigate the parking garage, which is a nightmare on a good day. The walk from the parking garage through the hospital and to the doctor's office was longer than I remembered and I was feeling kind of exhausted by the time I arrived. Well, I walked in the door and the waiting room was absolutely packed - not a good sign. While signing in, I noticed that there were a lot of other patient's files and paperwork on the receptionist's desk, so things did not appear to be moving quickly. While registering, I realized that I had not seen this doctor since before the second cancer and then it all came flooding back. I had an appointment with her the week that I had the brain surgery and had called her office from my hospital bed to cancel the appointment. They called me and sent me a letter, but since this was just an annual check-up kind of appointment, I did not go out of my way to follow up and now it had been over two years since m last visit. I had to fill out all the "new" cancer information on the forms and wrote "cns lymphoma" under the current health section on the forms and had to briefly describe all the new treatments, surgeries and medications - there was not enough room on the form and I had to use the back of one of the pages. As I paid the co-pay I could see the receptionist flipping through the form with a big frown on her face as she attached it to my file. As I waited my turn, I began to get sort of angry. I didn't want to be there and I didn't want to wait. I didn't like the frown on the receptionist's face and I didn't like her attitude when I asked if the doctor was running "on-time". About 10 minutes after my appointment time, I was called back to the examining room. At this point I was a little bit annoyed and couldn't wait to get the exam over with and get out of there. Well, the assistant who took me to the examining room was very pleasant and had a big bright smile. She flipped through my paperwork and suddenly her smile faded. She said, "wow - you sure have been through a lot since the last time you were here". She said it with such concern, that I immediately made light of it and joked - "yeah - you wouldn't think that having a check-up would make me nervous - not after all the other stuff I've been through". Then she asked if I still had the CNS Lymphoma or if it was gone. I thought that it was an odd question, but I didn't mind answering. I said that yes, as far as I was concerned it was gone. I continued to tell her that I was having some bone issues an had just had replacement hip surgery, but that was a side effect and not the cancer itself. She proceeded to tell me that her 24 year old brother had CNS Lymphoma and that I was the only other person that she had ever met with it. She asked if I minded and then proceeded to ask me the usual questions - how did you discover it; what were your symptoms; how were you treated, etc. I gave the short version of the headache and peripheral vision loss and then the brain surgery and high dose methotrexate chemotherapy treatments. She interrupted briefly to say that her brother had some in-patient chemotherapy as well and that he even had the kind that they "poured right into a catheter in his head". She asked if I had that and I said no, I was lucky to not need that kind, but that I had heard that it was one of the available treatments. I tried to wind down the conversation with saying that I had spent almost a year in treatment and that I recently had the hip surgery that was a result of the steroids. She said that I looked wonderful and she could not believe how well that I looked and appeared to be doing. I was about to complain about the other hip needing surgery when her eyes started to tear up. It took a minute, but it dawned on me then that her brother had lost his battle with CNS Lymphoma. So I gently asked about him and she told me that he had fought hard, but that he didn't make it and that I was the first person that she had ever met that had it and lived. She was now crying and I was welling up and she took a yellow "Live Strong" bracelet off of her wrist and handed it to me. She said, "please take this, it would mean a lot to me". I didn't want to take it, but couldn't refuse her. As I was putting on the bracelet, she told me that she would say some extra prayers for me - the joyful kind of prayers because she knew that I would be well. I thanked her and just then, remembered that for some reason, I am not sure why, before I left the house for the appointment, I made an origami crane and that it was in my purse. So, I grabbed my purse and said, please take this crane, I made it myself and it would make me happy for you to have it. Just then, the doctor walked in the room and said, "why haven't you changed into a gown yet?" She stood there for a second and then seemed to realize that something was going on of a personal nature, so she left the room and said that she would be back in a few minutes and I'll give "the two of you" time to be ready. Well, it was weird, until the doctor had walked into that room, I had totally forgotten why I was there or what kind of day I was having. I had totally forgotten "me" at all. Anyway, my new friend, I don't even know her name, walked out of the room and thanked me for the crane and reminded me that she would be praying for me.

I finally put the gown on and had the examination and almost ran from the doctor's office afterwards - I needed to get out of there. As I was walking towards the parking garage and digging for my keys, I noticed the bracelet on my wrist. I stopped dead in my tracks. I knew then that there was a purpose in me being at Mercy today and I changed directions and walked to the Chapel. The Chapel is in the old part of the hopsital and I was in the new part, so I knew that it would be a long walk, but I just knew that I needed to go there. The Chapel at Mercy has been a place of refuge for me in the past. It has also been a place of great comfort. I stopped there and spent a few minutes reflecting on the personal encounter that I had just been a part of. I also thought of the incredible journey my life has been and continues to be. I thought how each of us has a story to tell and each of us has our own journey and how strange it is when two strangers can share a common bond for a few moments and that bond can be so meaningful. Even if just for a few moments.

Before leaving the Chapel, I said a prayer for the doctor's assistant and her brother who was not as fortunate as I. I said a prayer for another friend who is struggling with cancer and was recently being treated at Mercy. And then, I thanked God for allowing me to realize my good fortune and allowing me to continue on my journey.

When I finally arrived at my car in the garage, I looked at my watch. I was shocked to see that so little time had passed, but at the same time, I realized that so much had taken place in that short amount of time.

Sometimes, even the dreary days can be glorious.

A Special Thank You

I am not certain how many people still follow my Blog, but for those that do, thank you. I had hoped to shut it down long ago - as soon as I recovered from the brain surgery; and then again, as soon as I recovered from the bacterial infection and coma; and then again as soon as I recovered from all the chemotherapy treatments; and then again, as soon as I recovered from the side effects of the chemotherapy treatments; and as soon as I got my driver's license back; and again, as soon as I was recovered from the hip surgery ...
The "as soon as" can go on and on. As with my recovery - it just keeps going on and on. I sort of consider myself "a work in progress" on this road to recovery. I guess that each of us is "a work in progress" for many things. I guess that sometimes I forget that everyone's life is full of little blips, and big blips, and roads to recovery for various things, as well as illnesses. We are all "works in progress". I guess that I just sometimes forget that. My focus has been so "focused on me" that I have sometimes lost site of the bigger picture. I am just one tiny part of a giant world. It makes me think of the book "A Wrinkle In Time". I will have to go back and re-read it. But the basic story line is about how something so small can affect so much - how one abnormality can cause total catastrophe for many. My illness is much like that. It does not only affect me, but it affects my family and friends and co-workers and doctors and therapists and friends of friends and on and on. As does everyone's life.
The reason that I am thinking about these things is that a realization hit me today. I thought to myself that people must be really tired of me being sick and asking about me and my various illnesses. I feel as if I have been the focus of so many thoughts and prayers for so long, that people must be getting sick and tired of even hearing my name. The odd thing is that just as I was thinking about myself, I thought of a friend of mine that has been struggling with cancer and it's many trials and tribulations for much longer than I have. That person's family and friends and co-workers must have the same "sickness fatigue" that my family and friends and co-workers must have. It is totally understandable.
After thinking about it for a while, I also came to the realization of just how fortunate I am. So many people - so many friends and family and co-workers and friends of friends and medical professionals have made me a part of their thoughts and prayers on a regular basis for a very long time. And they continue to do so! It is really amazing if you think about the connections that each of us has to each other (Sort of like the "six degrees of Kevin Bacon" thing. It is truly amazing that with all the things that people have to do each day and all the different people that they are connected to in so many ways, that so many people still take the time and effort to check on me and ask about me and think about me and pray for me. WOW! Just thinking about it makes me shiver a little.
So, a very special thank you for all the people in the universe who are somehow connected to me and my continuing road to recovery. A special thank you to all of those that somehow fit into the "six degrees of Debbie Sullivan". A special thank you for all your thoughts and prayers and communications - no matter how big or small. It is truly an honor to know that I am connected to so many people, even in a very small way. The universe seems just a little bit smaller to me tonight. Thank you.