an open heart

Every few weeks, we pack up a bag of snacks, books, magazines, etc. and head to midtown for my infusion.  I am usually there for about five hours, for three days in a row.  While my condition is neurological, I spend those days surrounded by cancer patients in the oncology department.  I could think of better places to spend three days so soon after having a baby, but all in all, it isn't so bad.

I am amazed by the men and women that filter in and out during my treatments.  They don't fuss.  They don't complain.  I had to hold back tears today.  The woman next to me spiked a high fever and had to be transferred to the ER.  While she was being helped to her wheelchair, she was apologizing to me. Why?  Because I had to put down the footrest of my recliner to let them in with the chair. 

I found out from a nurse that the other patients have been asking about me.  They were concerned that I was going through chemo so soon after giving birth.  She assured them that I was okay, and that it wasn't chemo.  Most wanted to ask about the baby.  To ooh and ahh.  To smile. 

Through it all, I try to remember that others have it worse.  That life actually hasn't dealt such a rough hand.  Many of these folks DO have it worse, and it makes you think.